See the Arizona Swallowtail butterfly, in the sky? The Mexican Bird of Paradise flowers are covered in them. This is my neighbor across the park’s house; she lives right next to the Coop nest.
Sometimes half of everything is orange, and half of everyone seems to be in Uppsala, Sweden.
There are just days like that.
Dinner tonight looks like breakfast; a farm egg with avocado and garlic chive flowers, sauteed mango, red pepper, basil and jalapeno, sesame/lemon bok choy, toast with apricot jam, Tuscan cantaloupe.
I want to feed it to Bill but he is not here. Yet.
I had a banner day, but my sky is full of white puffy clouds and I don’t think that driving up to see the Moon is going to work out.
I’m happy with my work; it’s like I can see all of these odd things I’ve been looking at for years making a straight line, and I feel that I can almost move over that line, and see things not in it that are connected to it in some way. It looks like this, actually.
Things are getting so amazing re the next book that the sheer atomic weight of the awesome of my team is humbling. It’s up to me now to be responsible, and use people’s time wisely. It’s time to finish the promo sites for the article and the book, and sit down with the CGB Calendar proofs, and send out my first round of interview questions, and make another surge into the Volume II layout.
I’m so thankful for the swimming pool; whenever my head feels too full, I just go outside, and I swim until I’m exhausted, and while I’m doing that, everything sorts itself onto my mental chalkboard, and I’m not hot, and I’m not overthinking anything, and there is just the world, and it’s around me, and it’s full of life, and I can see the shapes of my assumptions.
My indexing system is sparkling like Pop Rocks.