Reception

Cleaning up after the High School Art Show Reception and four of us are around the kitchen trolley, squabbling for petit fours and some really good little chocolate things. Like none of us had breakfast and we were starved. Sharee, the organizer, catches us with our mouths full, we all deny eating anything, with crumbs falling to the floor. I actually said today, in some context, -there is no reason to not deny what can't possibly be true- which really confused the issue, whatever it was. I tend to keep track of lines and forget the context. Thunder. I'll just print and save, couldn't wait to get home and write, I've got a pencil and paper as back-up here somewhere. I'm so old, I use to write long letters by hand, now I cramp if I write much more than my name. Handwriting, generally has lapsed into an arcane art, what passes is what we used to joke about on Doctor's prescription pads, scrawl. Still, there is no denying how fucking convenient it is working on my Black Dell, even with my limited skills, that I can work the way I do, is a constant amazement to me. The number of changes I make, writing one of these paragraphs, is staggering, hundreds, in order to make it sound natural, and I can do that, and drink and smoke, and end up with fair copy. A lot of the difficulties, achieving Fair Copy, are eliminated. You can edit without retyping. And the timing, for me was perfect, Marilyn had bought me a computer, my first, Christmas, then in February, asked me to leave. So I first started writing on a computer 12 years ago, and my time is structured completely differently now, I can stop, anytime, for however long, and watch or do whatever I want. Almost too much freedom, and it got to me at first, but the secret is to just stay focused: I think this rain will produce a last flush of morels, Shane thinks they're over. It's not a competition but I'd like to eat some more. Rain is falling so hard it sets up a harmonic, the metal roof is loud, I'm driven to distraction. I'd like to point a finger, but it's not my place, I do, after all, only control that place that is at the bottom of anyone's pecking order. The Division Of Industrial Compliance, that the boilers worked and the floors were clean, not a complaint, I'm so cool with this I could do it in my sleep. What was so cool was the meeting of the minds, I'm sorry Pegi wasn't there, but these things are not predictable, they happen, this afternoon, just before closing, one of those moments; we were way deep into planning, several layers, Sara was annointing D, I think he's full of shit and way too wide in the beam. Lardass. I know my opinion means nothing, still, I have to say something, what I thought I was seeing.