Propinquity

Hard to use that word without sounding like a silly ass, 'nearness in time or space', but it is used in terms of kinship; another is conspicuity, 'the state of being conspicuous'. Levi-Strauss uses both of them on one page and they actually sound fine. No one to feed the dog and I'll just have to leave her to her own devices. Maybe she can find another sucker. The driveway took quite a beating in last week's storm and I'm doing nothing to effect repair until I get back from Colorado, it's a decent deterrent to wholesale robbery. A fortune in first edition poetry, but no one is likely to steal that. Difficult to think about not writing, it's become such a fundamental part of who I am. Not so much for staying sane (though it's a help there) as for considering the disparate threads, as they warp into the string of direction. Living alone, there's time for endless reflection. I remember gesture and nuance of phrasing more than the words themselves, in the field, rarely in a hurry, I remember tactile things and subtle scents. Later, any given day, after supping on something, getting a drink and rolling a smoke, I look at the blank screen for a few minutes, and remember the salient elements of a day. My concerns. Not trying so much to make sense, as to understand for myself at least a small fraction of what happened. Today, for example: I could write a very slow dreary novel about today. Pegi was almost stressed-out and Tammy was concerned about Pegi, James had to make a bunch of corrections on the web-site, typos, at this point I asked that they always run the copy through me. I'm a really good proof-reader. Comes from beinp a dyslexic poet. This is interesting, right? what I'm packing. If the guy did post-doc in extreme northern Japan, he had to be committed. I knew him AND his friends. A taudry bunch. I avoided them, as much as possible, I hate having my fingertips smell bad, and their breathe was death warmed over.