November 14, 2010

Most of my recent dream life has taken place in Ireland. Last night I was running a camp or a school in Galway. The kitchen served one serving of a hundred different kinds of food, so it was my duty at each meal to suit the meal with the student, making sure they got what they wanted and needed. My knowledge of their intimate lives (at least as pertaining to food) was remarkable.

First day of the studio stroll was not so exhausting as usual, perhaps because the people who came to mine seemed smarter and more interested than in times past, perhaps because I had to leave hours early to do an intro for the Harwood-Cole lecture at Warren Wilson. The lecture was too beautiful to be listened to very attentively. The campus was a paradise of autumn colors and vistas. This will linger as the one of the great autumns of my experience, clement, vivid, almost agonizingly beautiful. The autumn when I almost bought a house in the country. The autumn when I wrote more than at any other time in my life.