As I wrote to Bill Hartmann this morning, life would be vastly easier for me if I stuck to circles where I looked like the smart one. This would not be difficult to arrange but it is not what I want. I could think about the society of chickens as deeply as I can think about the Universe. I’m not sure anymore that there is a material difference.
I should go into the forest and write poetry. I’d say “go into the forest and paint”, but it’s too hard to get art supplies in the goddamned forest.