August 25, 2018

Rose and went to the studio and had one of the best days ever, certainly in terms of actual square inches of canvas covered. Also, in terms of perceptual breakthroughs and technical confidence.

Lay down on the couch and slept and dreamed of long walks through a wintery landscape, meeting adventures at the meetings of lonely roads.

On the 23rd I looked back through my journals to see what I was doing on the 23rd of August 5 years ago, ten years ago, and on. Interesting. Some names which were important to me have completely lost their faces and contexts. Even more distressing is that the things that were one step out of reach then continue to be one step out of reach. The final entry into human intimacy or a steady literary career has always been denied, no matter how close I’ve come, no matter how often. It is past time for any change in this to make a real change in my life.