July 13, 2015

Hard rain. Even though the sound of it on the roof is a little disquieting, I bless the gods for it. I can hear my lilies and roses sucking it in.
   
Productive session at the studio yesterday. Painted intricate fish.
   
Did my workout–a good one–this morning, then went to soak in the hot tub, where an unexpected things happened. I started crying for no proximate reason, and had a hard time stopping.  Some ugly old guy bawling in the hot tub. Luckily, I don’t think anyone looked at me. Why was this? I couldn’t think of any reason then. But I think now, perhaps, that the building was full of beautiful young men, and on one simple level I was lonely, and on another more complicated level I perceived a life dedicated to beauty which has had so little of it for itself. Almost none that was not environmental or accidental. I had awakened thinking God was unfair in most conceivable ways, and I suppose this was not out of my system when I sank down in the steaming water. Another perception is that I have been more creative in the last few weeks than I have been in decades, creative to a level equal to any time in my life, and yet, when I put the pen down, I cannot keep the thought away that it will amount to nothing, that I will continue as I have been blazing in the stratosphere without once being seen. It all ties together, now that I’ve written it down. I was angry over the drought, too, but I can leave that be.
   
Need to decide if the Descent of the Muse is random (as I think it is) or predicated upon idleness (as I sometimes also think it is) in which case I maybe should be thinking about retirement. I asked Terri if I could have a birthday gathering at AM, and realized that I was embarrassed to include my actual age in the invitation. It seemed at once pathetic and immodest.
   
One of the men I admired in the weight room joined me in the hot tub, and invited me to a class he teaches in some kind of Russian martial arts I forget the name of. I’ll probably go, even if only to leave God no opportunity to say “I tried–“