Nothing

Building Nothing Out of Something is just so perfect for me right now, the candles just blown out, a bit of red wine in a pretty glass. I just arranged my photos, or I did as much as I could. Nostalgia is too short of a word for it--it makes me so proud and sad and lonely. Wondering how to organize a life in pictures, I started by grouping them into piles of people: girlfriends, boy friends, family, then groups at certain times. Then I switched to just clumping them together in years. And I then thought I'd just collect all the pictures that made me look nice. You all look nice. There's an amazing picture of Missi in there I found. I think she's resting on the brink of the Grand Canyon. And several nice ones of Kirsten's hand, blocking the camera.

I played at Coffeehouse at the school yesterday evening. I played "Wonderful" and Marty and I sang "Your Cheatin' Heart" and "I wanna be sedated." We didn't do our songs as well as we could, but they liked them, and they were so nice and quiet when I was singing "Wonderful."

I haven't even been thinking about writing lately. I can't imagine writing a poem, but I have been thinking of essays. I'm not ready to write one, but at least I've starting thinking about them. Before the break is over, I want to get something done. Perhaps I'll revise the thing that James liked so much from Greece. I think I'm exhausted from work, but when I look back at the week, I can't think what I've done that's so tiring. Teaching is strange work in that you're always on--it's sort of like taking a problem-solving test for eight hours every day. So, yeah, that's why I'm tired.



I'll try to update this site, and when I finally get a camera and buy some room, I'll be posting some pictures from Hot Springs because it's really lovely here: old dead buildings and steam rising off the hillside.