February 1, 2023

I was going to leave for the beach this morning, but the though of doing so upset me so much, and so inexplicably, that I decided to wait until tomorrow, which had been the original plan anyway. Gave me time to finish my painting or orcas in the deep sea, and to pick away at my new Asheville novel, Folies de Espana my accompaniment. Rehearsal last night productive and irritating. K is hell-bent on fixing random mistakes, so that the substance of a passage sometimes remains unrevealed. AS chorus makes plenty of mistakes, too, so it’s a little like Julia Child chopping carrots into smaller and smaller bits.

D said, “Written a play recently?" " “Yes.” “Aren’t you afraid that function will be taken over by AI?”

For a trip to the beach you pack twice what you need, because-- why not? 

Backed up my files against some shadowy threat.