Soooo much inspiration today, the one day this week that I knew I would not have to leave the house. I read. I wrote. I tilled the fields. When I am overstretched and doing things I don't want to do, this is the kind of day I long for.

The tanka project is changing everything. Ballet season starts in New York in a few days. Hell, there's even going to be a new Harry Potter movie! I could've done without the very loud thunderstorms, but hell ... nobody's perfect.

Back to performing and running around tomorrow. But for this one day, I got to be a poet, in The Womb. Mercy.

It was a weird Wednesday. Money was beyond tight, so we had to eat at home, and stopping back mid afternoon was a total momentum killer. But we played video games for free at D&B, even winning an adorable stuffed lion for our efforts, before driving down to Avon as it got dark.

A weird Wednesday, but any day that wraps up laying on a blanket under the stars in Happy Cove couldn't be all that bad.

Necro-posting didn't quite get underway, but the groundwork was laid, going back to May. That's appropriate, as it was a day of infrastructure, mostly technological, with a bit of story thrown in for good measure.

I've lost my voice in here, but I might find it tomorrow, if my oblique plan comes to fruition.
We'll see ...

The funny thing is, I actually HAVE been writing. Just not here.

Five lines a day, with deep intention, since August 26th.

So much I could say about it, but not right now.

Believe it or not, I still haven't given up on chronicling The Year of Unknowable Things. But I have a lot of work to do. Deep necro-posting begins tomorrow.

Good night.