June 22, 2013

Thinnest birdsong from some distant, dark tree. It’s taken me this long to get over my journey. I was not jet-lagged, but I was mind-lagged, considering nothing very seriously but comments on or repercussions from my play.

Dream of journeying to Spain with a group of other travelers, including Julie Andrews, whom I had seen on TV that night. Spain was very beautiful and very vertical, and we were all the time climbing up narrow grooves in stone cliffs, which every now and then would open onto a glorious prospect. Our hotel was also steep and vertical, and there were shelves in our rooms to keep us from falling too far should we fall out of bed. I was the leader of the group, and someone (not Julie) was a nuisance and a perpetual trial, but I have forgotten now the details. I kept remarking to myself that the guidebooks didn’t prepare one for what Spain “really” looked like.