no direction here

I watched Godzilla yesterday, the original from 1954. Actually I clicked away from it right after Godzilla had destroyed Tokyo and was disappearing back into the bay, before they kill him with that pill thing. Stuff’s pretty black and white in that b/w movie. Good old days – though not for Tokyo.

I also watched “The Magic of Belle Isle” again, having watched it just last week, this very strong feeling that that’s how I should spend some of my yesterday – a dose of kindness, a pinch of magic. Previously I had walked the long walk to the library to return Thurston Moore’s memoir, then on to Starbucks down in Mission Hills because I felt like it was smart to get out in the world and hang around people a little – this in response to a strong imperative I was feeling upon waking to turn my phone off for the next couple of months, quit Facebook forever, and otherwise leave the world alone except for three or five people.

I put off sending my 12th book to the formatter and opening up a new book project in Kindle because it was (is) difficult to think straight. Mostly about everything. In the Moore memoir he referred to a group named ‘Pavement’, I’d never heard of them (more late to the party stuff), and I’ve been YouTube listening the last few days. It helps.

I can’t draw or paint, I can’t seem to get hired anywhere, the only writing I’m doing is Morning Pages and here. I keep having fantasies of buying a really cheap Telecaster and starting a punk band. I think a cool name would be “pepperoni ice cream”

Two lines from “Belle Isle” — “What’s he yelling at?”

“Life.”

And this from the movie, again – “Never stop looking for what isn’t there.”