On the physical plane, I am just not doing very well. Among other things, I seem to have had an asthma attack last night. It was unpleasant. I would prefer not to repeat the experience. I meant to go out this afternoon into the brilliantly frigid sunlight and photograph whatever had not been mid-May frost-killed, but instead I finished my work and then I lay motionless on the couch. I appreciate the friend who is not on DW who sent me news of both masked hamsters and antibody llamas. My mother sent a few seconds of video in which she captured the bald eagle circling and calling over my parents' house. I am going to return to the couch and read Jean Webster's Daddy-Long-Legs (1912), which feels like it should be a re-read, except I don't recognize any of it.
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Active Entries
- 1: There's no boat to take me where all the stars go to cross the water
- 2: Once you know it's a dream, it can't hurt
- 3: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 4: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 5: Let the lights run like rivers all over my skin
- 6: I am bound to these shores, I'll be bound till the end
- 7: Wish everyone could hear when she sings
- 8: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 9: I make sure there are hidden messages in my work
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