January 10, 2015

Rose early and baked, ostensibly for Tom’s party, but also because I wanted to, and had the materials at hand.

Went to the studio for a gift for Mark on his birthday, found it in shambles. Another flood? I’m not even going to ask. I think not, though, for paintings were removed from the wall, where flood was not likely to affect them. Turned on the heaters to prepare for my return.

Went to Mark’s birthday party in a dive down on Fairview, stayed long enough for Cantaria to sing, and for everybody to reveal the surprise. The Cantaria tenors sounded fine; the basses were not to be heard.  I gave Mark my painting of Pan dancing for the lion.

After our session, Z sang me a song of friendship the likes of which I may not have heard before, but certainly not in a long time. It was touching and beautiful, and of course I had to make a joke at the end of it, but the sweetness stands on both sides. I feel the same about him, but would never have said it, not first, anyway, my history being one of having such declarations fall like lead. But my blessing on the world for that, wherever it leads.