October 5, 2012

Zach had double booked (more likely I had forgotten a changed arrangement) so I went without the massage around which I had planned my morning. Worse, leaving the building I slipped on the steps and crashed down, breaking the step under me. I could feel my skeleton jolt inside me, and I had to sit for a moment before being assured nothing–but the step–was broken. Gashed elbow seems to be the only effect, aside from jolted nerves. There was something on the step which was invisible and slick as ice. Didn’t matter going up, but coming down it did. What I took to be a homeless man helped me up and said he'd pray for me. The receptionist who came out to investigate fell at exactly the place I had done. She was afraid to get up, so I held her hand and eased her down the remaining steps. Stopped for an extra coffee coming home.

Working on my lost-play-of-Shakespeare play. I’d thought of it long ago, but forgot, until TD reminded me over coffee. It’s good to have a specific project again. I know it’s right because it’s going fast and, if not easily, unwaveringly.

Went downtown to see Kenn’s work at the new Aloft hotel. Wine on the fine balcony overlooking Biltmore Avenue. He was being lionized so I didn’t have much time with him, but I discovered I was in the midst of a gallery walk, which I have not attended in a long time. Walked among the galleries, seeing much I liked but nothing I wanted. It used to be I couldn’t walk down the street without seeing somebody I knew.