December 14, 2008

Put on a T-shirt for writing in the dark of the morning that is 38 years old, from my first stay at Cambridge. My mother removed the choking elastic from the neck. Personal heritage drawn randomly from the white heap in the T-shirt drawer.

Coffee with TD at Starbuck’s. His movie script seems this time to be actually and truly on track. Somehow merely sitting in the chair I threw my back out, and could not straighten up, and had to limp like an octogenarian back to the car. Schedules and other imperatives made me refuse to change my plans for Saturday, which included moving more gear up the six winding flights from old studio to new. The odd thing is that my back not only permitted that, but felt better afterward. Jason was showing his wife and father-in-law the space. We’re going to call the studio after the mythical kingdom in his paintings–Thul, or something like that. The Denying Powers will be disgruntled that I have gone the back way to have a son.