trusting the day

Last Wednesday I was walking on University Ave here in San Diego and there was a man walking on the other side of the street. Bedraggled, whiskered, somewhat bent over, carrying bags, Maybe homeless, I thought. I dawdled walking along and when I looked over again, there were three bags on the sidewalk and no man. I turned around and there he was, carrying three more bags to join with the three he’d already moved ahead. Being in a similar position in another setting a month before, and not acting, this time I crossed the street and asked if I could help him carry his bags. He said, “No.”

I’m pretty much all in on a new book. Initially each of the individual stories fell out easily, the process of brainstorming and writing with a timer was fun. It was exciting. The re-write and editing has been painful. I’m not sure why. I have asked a friend to pre-read it before I get much further down the road toward publishing, I’m hoping to feel ready enough to send it off toward the Columbia Gorge today.

My ongoing job search is fairly nutty. There’s a distinct lack-of-reality-testing edge with it. Which doesn’t feel like a problem so much, as I’m seeing it as it occurs. It’s kind of interesting. I’d rather sell books and paintings. I’d rather the planet be a nicer place too.

Monday, Monday.