Updated this post from Friday, October 21, 2022
I just returned a random library find on the shelf called The Border Lord and Lady, I was in the mood for another non-deep or tragic, petite thick paperback type novel or stories, the kind professors would scoff at but there could be one among them that is very cozy and good. But I was not happy with this one, was not up for some graphic beginning not even 10 pgs in, a horrifying nonconsensual scene, as if for a serial killer.
So I returned it to the outdoor bookdrop same day, and a distance away I did a nice karate back-kick in the air (not touching book basin), a kick for another terrible fictional Robert in a row this week, not a kick at the author.
The Local Book Group was really nice in person this week, my own first meeting. Not many people there read or liked the chosen book including me—I skipped it all, but I enjoyed meeting with the group in a very antique living-room like room to talk very comfortably and casually and often randomly too.
I had a sudden increase of observation tonight as I visited the Art Gallery earlier and took note of the different paintings and their facts by the artist; it had me consider the idea of the type of paint media and finished look, and while I consider this gently without the initial scare of some new change unfamiliar even if good, —I plan to work on my current painting concept of which I have its very beginning in mind; I’d accidentally lost that on canvas and wished to start again. I find I work best with shorter paint sessions over time.
—How is it that I feel I am writing creatively in my sleep, maybe poems, and be so eager these days to write, yet my notebooks right now are mostly empty and on the shelf neatly? I don’t rush, I am happy as pressure is not necessary; I will write when I’m ready. And you know, sometimes, on the blog, free write posts like this could also happen.
—And Poets, you know how a poem or passage that sounds conversational and directive like this could be seen as fully literal and very simple or in the moment—and you also know how it isn’t. I’ve done the same of course and I remember that for you. The baby part is exact though :D; that is how I danced.
I practiced yoga outside yesterday near home in the sun and shade; I’ve been kind of in invisible forest fairy mode not appearing in my own photos right now.
But this time, as I rolled up my yoga mat after the side planks, one leg downward dog, folds and twists, I thought there would be something for me to take then, and there was a beautiful leaf I found among many crumpled ones, it looked as if it was drawn with such a sweet and cute shape or personality, colors I enjoyed too—it is pressing in a book now for 2 weeks to preserve.
I imagined, as I placed it in my book to press: To: Jade. Love: Especially, This Tree. 😉