Chewing Gum

And walking. I amuse myself. A wonderful day. Contact with the outside world, phone calls. Pivotal phone calls, set the record straight, serious communication. I have to get an early drink. Nothing is the same. Visit with actual humans, talk, carry on, make a call. I think about the pieces we didn't collect, because they were too large or awkward, and I wish we had collected them. I tell Glenn, that if it is a story, I could repeat it. I can tie a knot and talk at the same time, maybe even gesture appropriately, I know the "Queen's Wave", can do a simple two-step. B and Sarah had walked over, visiting his cabin, talk about the show, then call Glenn back, talk about the filming, Deputy is Saturday Staff at the museum, call her to share enthusiasm. Celebratory bottle of wine. Then today I'm Staff for a function, tomorrow, below the floodwall for crotched support posts, need some pallets from the paint store, to keep the wrack sticks off the ground in the shed, need to move some shit around, get a count on rails. The Post-Impressionists considered The Impressionists too naturalistic. Wrote some, last night, but I've learned to not SEND if I'm drunk. Good move, gibberish. I saved a few nouns and one verb. The Lesser Urban Sparrows were riding the pampas grass today, always makes me smile to see them. Something about the change of season. The young red maple I left outside my writing window, four years old, 20 feet tall, growing on old rootstock, has turned bright orange, a lovely thing. The drive in and out, where Mackletree enters the forest, canopied and dappled with slanted light, is beautiful. The season of color, broad brush strokes. Receptionist was a no-show, so I sat at the desk all afternoon, reading art history. Several interesting conversations with people who came in on "the Tour Of Lofts" or whatever the town function was called. One woman, I'm pretty sure, was flirting with me. I was merely telling her and her friend what was where, being fairly glib, because when they came in I was looking at pictures of some Balthus paintings and my mind was elsewhere, so my answers to their questions were extremely indirect, in fact, probably not answers at all but further questions. I'm not good at the desk because the Art Library, and a good one, is right there and I keep my nose buried in books. Her friend's name was Gertrude and I quoted a line from "Hamlet", she thought that was cool and quoted a line, of course, from "Romeo and Juliet", I had unknowingly violated my own First Rule: Never Reveal Yourself. Or the codicil, if I reveal myself completely, I am invisible. Strangest thing is meeting a stranger and they know more about me than I do, I play dumb, I can do this easily, 'playing dumb' is a gift I was granted when the "Mayflower" grounded ashore. There was a white whale, right, it was in the Living Room with you, correct . Did you look behind the sofa? I hate to ask dumb questions, but they are the same questions the cops will ask. Could you, did you, would you. I don't know. Once I would have known. Now I'm in the dark, at least deep shadow. I just want to install a show.