this never ends

I’m drinking two large cups of rich coffee in the (yesterday) afternoon. I know I need to call a friend in Massachusetts – Steve T. I’ve arranged as art on the counter three large cara cara oranges I bought for Ann at the People’s Co-op. My first post-work book invitation is “Nine-Headed Dragon River” by Peter Matthiessen. The second reading, aligned with the second cup, is the story “Mary Anne” from my book “Astoria Strange. A reading which began 10 hours earlier, a directive falling out of the “Dragon River” book then, to read this particular story now. Strange.

You know how it goes – right? Take out the recycles and organics, visualize a cheese omelette and steamed brocoli – well, perhaps yogurt and peanut butter at eight this morning the fuel highlight. I think of it more as an interlude, luscious space between earlier ritual of three times meditation, coffees and readings, three Morning Pages, neighborhood walk traveling the bridge, and those activities completed, looking at Red Sox stuff on the monitor and cruising off down the 5 and the 8 for another day of part-time work. Interlude.

Part-time reading. Part-time coffee. Part-time blogger. Part-time peanut butter. Part-time artist doodler. Part-time dance partner James Brown. Neverending practice.