13 of #100daychallenge
I am listening to Forest Flower: the Charles Lloyd Quartet at Monterey. Great record. Keith Jarrett does some beautiful work.
I am going to bed frustrated tonight as I did not get enough done and chaos abounds. Where did the day go? It flew by without a nap or a walk or any time in the garden with those plants that need to go in. I did stain the last of the bookshelves and began to sand a couple of small pieces of furniture to go into this room.
Perhaps I am overtired, but I do feel a bit down. Having breakfast with Karen and Patty and I am already anxious that I will be away from getting work done. Perhaps I am just uncomfortable with the state things are in and I know I need to keep my nose to my knitting.
It's nice to have my poetry books mostly to hand now. I can expand from Kay Ryan, but I do want to finish her book. Maybe I am just eager to get this work done so that I can move onto the writing and reading and making project I have in mind. I feel like Lillian Gish in The Wind. Everything is everywhere and anything that has been outside is dirty. I do live in a desert after all.
THE JOB
Imagine that
the job were
so delicate
that you could
seldom—almost
never—remember
it. Impossible
work, really.
Like placing
pebbles exactly
where they were
already. The
steadiness it
takes . . . and
to what end?
It's so easy
to forget again.
— Kay Ryan, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems, Grove Press, 2010
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