April 1, 2013

Woke moments ago from a wonderful dream. I was traveling with some friends. It was my task to record our travels in a large notebook, as I often have done in waking life. But this notebook was made of bright plastic material, and the pages could be molded and worked over in different colors as you work over clay, and you wrote in it with a stylus. It was so much fun writing in it that I was recording the least details of the journey, but even the mundane came out as poetry.

Driving to church early Easter morning, I got from my house to the church without hitting a single red light. I’m trying to take that as a sign.

Worked on a story and on the Celestine play.

Though eventually it turned to exhaustion, as all things carried on too long do, the early moments at All Souls were inspired and uplifting. I felt wholly in the Easter spirit, and felt that salvation was so great a gift that all my complaints were revealed as sand and pebbles in comparison. I wish that perception had lasted longer, but at least I know I can still have it. Sean Patrick was baptized. The dean referenced dinosaurs in his homily. Nobody invited me to Easter brunch, so I made a pasta dish I regret to this hour.  Watched The Greatest Story Ever Told (the end of it, from Lazarus on) and remember whole passages verbatim from when I was a teenager. I remembered a line where my mother laughed.