Emily Project

I don't know how real directors do this, but I mostly walk around, trying to pick up her voice. Then, mid-afternoon Linda calls and we talk logistics for getting her here, so she can talk with TR, she agrees to send some recordings; maybe can get down and over for a meeting in November, fly in, fly out, a day the museum is closed, so we can wheel the baby grand into the main gallery and plink a bit. I've thought a lot about music as punctuation, don't get me started. A sequence of preludes that hover around the same note, that we might hear while Emily is baking bread. I want an oven that works, I want the smell of baking bread, make it as real as possible. Tangible Emily, something I could actually sense. Then Samara called. Good conversation. Grazed at dinner, olives and cheese and roast beef roll-ups, drifted off into speculation, never could get back into what I was writing. Rare, but hearing from most of the people I love within a few hours sidetracked me. Memories rise to the surface and I cherish them. Not a word I ever use. Do, in fact, hold to my heart. It's beautiful outside, the color is intense, the sassafras especially, a kind of electric iodine thing going on. Acorns falling on the wood-shed are like gunshots. I needed to go to town, for liquor and drinking water, so I stopped at the museum and washed my hair. Hot running water is a great concept. Ran my errands, came back to the museum, to pick up my stuff, and watched an episode of "The Glades" on Hulu. TV is an interesting medium, how it attempts to stand in for the natural world. I like this show, because I'm familiar with the habitat and they capture it rather well, but most of the stuff is crap. Almost everything is crap. Breaking celebrity news. I have a network of informants, who turn me on to a book I need to read, they send me postcards; I usually order the book under a fictitious name, a bibliophile that I think I created with no other interest involved, other than imaging. I liked what I imagined he could do, is that conditional, or no anything, he might have been holding something, it happened so fast.