Sunday, September 3, 2006

Moratorium, Day 2




Evening and Day 2 of no seed in the Bird Park but birds are still occasionally dropping by, some drinking a little water before taking off again. Otherwise, it's pretty quiet out there.

I spent some time in the morning working on the Coda for Three Cockroaches, not writing it, it's been done for months, but playing it in different voices on the keyboard. I must say some where kind of nice. I got a mixer and microphone for my birthday last month so I would like to record and upload it to the Cockroach Diary but I still lack one set of cables.

I also spent some time at the drawing board today. Like all of my projects, that's going very slowly. I've become self-conscious about what I'm doing and every other line now looks wrong. I'm much better when I don't think about these things but seems the mind always finds a way to intruded. Then begins the hard part.

The sky is blue here in Nevada this evening with elongated white clouds tethered to the desert by invisible ropes. Inside the window I am completely surrounded by things — 360° of stuff — in front of me brain coral from the Caribbean, Crow Stone, the Mayan leopard, then to the right the camera cradle, book holder, lamp, microphone, printers, scanner, bookshelf crammed with boxes of paper, notebooks, photographs, CDs, then the small table with books and drawing paraphernalia, the drawing table, then another bookshelf, file cabinet, another table with shelving holding my minuscule puppet theatre, and shelves of pens, tape, glue, rubber stamps, paper clips, scissors, post office stickers, labels etc. and so on, then the window in front of me again and the big table at which I sit typing. The clutter is contained compared to other days but it is the open blue sky on the other side of the glass toward which I lean like a plant bound in a pot that is too small.

When I began writing this post I was listening to a CD by woman called Sada Sat Kaur, an American disciple of Yogi Bajan. A friend loaned it to me. It's horrible. I knew it would be. I can't complain about an American taking initiation and wearing robes. I have a guru. Did. Do. Did. ...do... in an abstract way ... so I can't fault Kaur for that but god! her syrupy synthesized muzak just doesn't cut it.

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