May 31, 2009

I’ve loved the days since school was out, painting, gardening, working out, writing, going out in the evening or not. It is a rhythm of immense calm and productivity, the only anxiety being how to extend it as long as possible. I remember this feeling from my graduate school days, when I appreciated it less. I regret agreeing to teach summer school, though if I can ease that into the rhythm, all might be well. I have not bought my annual summer ticket to Europe, wanting nothing to interfere.

Personnel for The Beautiful Johanna are falling into place. Only Terence and Trudy remain to be cast.

The last Titanic survivor has died. That seems an age and more ago.

Night. End of a day of great beauty. I spent too much of it napping, but I felt the beauty of it wax and flow like a bank of wind-driven cloud.