February 27, 2010

Holding in my hand the first copy of Short Plays to Long Remember, containing my plays Piss and Four for the Gospel Makers. I’ve opened the cover, and read a little, but for the moment I am going to let the experience of innocent expectation linger.

Did a read a little at random, from one of those plays about how affectation is the higher authenticity, a perspective I got over when I had been “out” about a month.

One of the cats was nestled against my chest before morning. I knew it was Circe when she had one of those startle reactions which causes her to speed over any surface, claws out, in inexplicable feline panic. The surface this time was my face, including my right eye, which took a direct hit from her stampeding claw. Had my eye been open I would now be blind. The multiplicity of betrayals contained in that one act have weighted down the morning.

Jim’s funeral this afternoon. Jon’s birthday later this afternoon. Allan’s birthday tonight.