May 10, 2017

The iris at the corner of the yard has the most purple purple I have ever seen. A folded sheet of purple fire. The roses are a many-colored firmament. The fleet inhabitant of my pond is a sizeable leopard frog, who can land in the center with one leap. Watched last night’s full moon rise over the green hills of Haywood County. There was a perfume over everything. I mentioned it, and Luke said, “It smells like Dr. Pepper,” which indeed it did. Somewhat spoiled the effect.

The demon was dreaming its dreams through me last night. Woke, and there was terrible battle. Slept sweetly for the rest of the night.

Rehearsals are going well. The play is not demanding and the actors are adept, especially the women. The drive to Waynesville, though, is hell. 90 minutes there, 35 back.

R etches images of the Crucifixion into his paintings. The paintings deserve to be–by virtue of his virtue-- much better than they are.

Prepared for the trip to Atlanta to hear the premiere of Haec Sunt Draconi. It appears I’ve spent so much with Expedia that my room at the Indigo is free.

Entered grades and put the academic year behind me. Noted the ones who, through inflated self-esteem, are likely to give me trouble.

Facing the summer with expectations of delight.