June 16, 2025

During the discussion by the actresses of my play, I noted how nuances that would be clear to a literary critic or an academic reader escaped their notice. It didn’t seem right to say anything. Later on I blessed my reluctance, realizing that though these nuances were discussable, they may not be actable. Anna says a number of things that would lead the attentive reader to assume she’s having second thoughts about a lesbian lifestyle. Neither actresses nor director noted this. Maybe they will, or maybe it’s something that would muddle rather than clarify enactment. Part of my history as a playwright/poet is to have left clues in the text to which more purely theatrical people do not respond.

Hit the “magic moment” with Purification, when the structure suddenly shimmers into place.

 

June 15, 2025

Trump’s speech for Army Day was not actually idiotic. Disappointing, in its way.  Cameras reveal few viewers and vast expanses of empty grass in DC. Red Boise had more protestors against Trump than Washington had supporters, most of whom were soldiers under orders. A man with no shame. 

Watched a movie about mutant alligators infesting a city’s sewers. Thought about the main actor, who was able and competent. I imagined him thinking ruefully, “Here I am more than half way through my career, starring in a mutant alligator movie.” I couldn’t sit on the porch that night for fear of alligators. 

No Kings

 

June 14, 2025

Storms last night from the north. Given the times, I at first mistook the thunder for artillery. 

End of a big day, the fan on High pointing at my head in the sun-beaten attic. 

Went downtown for the No Kings demonstration. Arrived early, so fortified myself with a bloody Mary at the Restoration hotel bar, where the bartender showed me on her phone a list of things to do if I were to be attacked by the police. Discovered that the gathering place was Martin Luther King Park, so I hiked there and watched the crowd grow and seethe. Anti-Trump chants from all sides. At one point everyone crossed onto Charlotte Street and made for Pack Square. I was carried along like a stick in a flood. It was exciting. It was bracing. I wept for joy to be in the midst of so many people aroused to action for the good. I am not happy with crowds normally, but this one was not random, but directional, an arrow headed to target. Exhilarating. Had lunch at Twisted Laurel, made it home in time for a ZOOM rehearsal of Roses and Violets. I was reminded how wonderful it is to have New York actors. They ran through twice. I thought the first time was fine; the second, though, was epic. A suggestion is enough to sharpen everything. The three women spent most of the time talking over one another, but their messages somehow got conveyed. 

 June 13, 2025

Black calla blooming. 

Concert at Givens Estates last night. I think the event went well enough– except that S missed my first solo gabbing away to the crowd and then moving on to the next number. Turbulence before the concert, though, as S determined to use our warm-up to “rehearse” pieces not on this program, about which she had anxiety for next week. Her anxiety translated into an unusual pitch of the usual hysterical frenzy. She can be brutally rude and unproductive in that state, a condition people (including myself) seem to excuse more often for her than the would for another, perhaps because it’s alloyed with sympathy for her panic. You push down your anger to get through the show. You stop at the Village Pub with your friends to drink and bitch about it all until deep darkness. 

Progressing on Purification. 

Mounting absurdities in California. US Senator in handcuffs for trying to ask a question. 

One man walks away from an Air India crash that kills all others on board. He will spend the rest of his life contemplating this. 

 

June 10, 2025

Woke from a vivid dream of leading my father on a tour of London. I had dwelt there, apparently in shady parts of town, and I took him into pawn shops and dingy artists’ ateliers to introduce him to the people I knew. London was very hilly. He was an eager traveler, interested in everything. 

 

June 9, 2025

Gentle summer rain here, though the TV flickers on and off as though there is a great storm somewhere. 

Spent a chunk of the day on a painting which I thought was disappointing when I left it, but doesn’t look so bad now that I return to it. If I’d ever had an art lesson maybe they would have taught me how to deal with backgrounds. 

Pruned, weeded, planted what NEEDS to be this year’s last shipment of flowers, a big pink rose. 

A word on the haunted pool pump: when I finally got what‘s-his-name to replace the pump motor, it worked for a week, then slacked back to a drip. It pumped some paltry water out over the falls, but the suction/filtering feature was gone. Water stood still in the pool except for a trickle oozing over the rocks. I figured that was enough to keep the pool from dying. The last time I cleaned out the trap (last week) there was no detritus in it, as it hadn’t been filtering. I removed everything and felt around in the water (I almost don’t have enough arm to reach the motor) but there was not much glop to remove. Plugged it back in, and noticed that the stream was minimally better, but still not much, still not enough to inspire filtering. Once again I reconciled to a trickle that might, nevertheless, be enough. Today when I was down there fussing with something, I saw that the flow is easily ten times what it was, a veritable Niagara, filtering and pouring with the delicious tinkle of moving water. Did it heal itself? How after weeks of meagerness it is now rich and full? It is a machine, but one muct at times like this assign to it a mind of its own. 

At least four leopard frogs call my pond home. 

A bear tore out the barricade of cinderblock protecting the last airhole in the basement. Deep claw marks score the bottom of the window– which, now that I think of it, is no more than four feet from my head in sleep. Thank God bears have no application. 

Orange Hitler sends the Marines to enforce his illegal ICE maneuvers. Gavin Newsom is my hero. 

Whitsunday

 

June 8, 2025

Pentecost.

Missed Hendersonville Pride yesterday. It seemed something I was not ready, at this advanced age, to endure. Judging from the Facebook messages it was, at best, debacle- adjacent.

Planted two white native hibiscus