October 24, 2025

Days of radiant blue skies, edged at evening with white and gray almost stationary clouds. Rehearsals, where I fought off phlegm that is apparently going to be the bane of every winter. S had us say long pure vowels for a long time last night, after having noted how little time we have. She is one who imagines that a wry obsession is a crusade, and there’s no hope of reasoning her out of it. But, you hear the minutes ticking away. . . 

Good writing at the riverbank yesterday morning, then a stroll through the reviving River Arts District, renewing old acquaintance. Most of the work there is quite bad. I think the good artists had to retreat from corporate properties, and can be found, if one looks, somewhere else. 

All bulbs presently in my possession are in the ground.