scarlet begonias and green chile
A season of growing, and pains. Work has been challenging. It is difficult to produce art that is not one's own sometimes. I am writing when I can, working on a ghostly sort of coming of age story, about the First street house in Albuquerque. I have about 30 pages now, and it it's good work, when I can manage it. The play about Dorothy Parker is not yet begun, but I am itching to get started soon. No word on the New York possibility, but for now it seems far away.
Don't worry, I planted the chile in tranportable planters, just in case. This is advice from Sheila, who was out here last weekend. We had a pretty fab time at the local Earth Day festival, treating ourselves to some girl time, and out in the wine country with Sam. Sam and I are going to start riding a tandem bicycle in the mountains around here, and I finally ventured into my gym, a mere two months after joining.
All of these things are neccessary, and good. I think I finally realized that my sanity depends upon taking care of myself, and making things that I love start to grow again. Life is too short to let the days go by working only for others, and not for myself and for those I care for the most.
I can feel Mercury coming out of retrograde, finally. I think all things started now have a stronger chance to come to fruition without constant backwards attention and reworking. It is high time to push on through.