I was up at 4:30 a.m., which gets easier later in the summer. I then wrote for two hours, building on an archive of material collected over several decades, including artefacts and completed or partially told stories, songs, charts, and pictures.
Sleeping for an hour got me nowhere, as my head was swirling with multiple storylines, people, and events. Half an hour later, I was in tears, sobbing even at the way a storyline was going. I’m a born romantic. Love stories do this to me.
A box of veggies from a local supplier arrived while I was up. The day is glorious, and I could be spending much of it at Charleston doing Life Drawing, but I have two stories reaching fruition that depend on my attention.
Leave a Reply