July 21, 2013

Dream of buying furniture and books to fill new rooms at a new college. Except in the dream I was Virginia Woolf, and very aware that what I bought had to be publically up to the standards of Virginia Woolf.

Painted yesterday. Managed to sneak past the office, because if I didn’t I’d spend half my time talking with J. Her plans, her new designs for which, for some reason, she seems to need my approval. She came up to the studio anyway, and said, “I didn’t see you come in.” I couldn’t say how much stealth I used insuring that. Then I heard about the plans and designs, not knowing if it was OK for me to keep on painting or if I had to heed with full intention. I can’t say that the session was exactly ruined, but it did not come out the way I anticipated.

Heroic weeding. I realize that the garden which looks so fascinating to me looks unkempt to others. I keep big weeks growing because I like yhem and like to watch them grow. I get walks be overgrown. I encourage wildness and chance. It must look like mess from outside.

Writing on the new version of Wyona.