June 23, 2014

Late waking today, I think because the birds were stifled by some mood in the air, and were not singing until just now.

Cantaria’s afternoon concert turned out to be triumphant. I didn’t know at first that everyone was going to like it, but I knew I felt better, that I was joyful singing as I had not been the first time. DJ and I went to Rhubarb afterward, on Pack Square, and watched the passing show, which was, in part, a dusty, skillful country ensemble from New Orleans busking beside the restaurant. Used to be that I couldn’t sit an hour anywhere downtown without seeing somebody that I knew well enough to salute; those times are over.

A appeared at the door and I said I was exhausted. He didn’t take the hint. Turns out I wasn’t exhausted after all.

Uncomfortable dreams before waking: magically confined to a colossal Tallmadge Circle, trying to get somewhere but always missing the proper exit. I’d set up housekeeping or open a business on one of the radiating streets, until the need to travel, to get to the real destination, hit me again.