the air is free, not as heavy, not as humid. I am thinking about the future, planning, working, researching. there are many things to be thought of, to be looked at. but I am impatient. my harms and hands feel heavy, they are trembling from all the writing. too many words out there. I am definitely cured of the summer writer’s block. I am not sure why I have these regular periods of writing and then absolute silence. has it got something to do with the environment, my personal, or the weather? or all of it. excuses. or maybe I just don’t care that much as I seem to.
my room is filled with books notebooks photographs and scraps of papers which I don’t need anymore. half of them are pamphlets from museums and galleries from two years ago. I think this weekend will be perfect for putting away some of those things. I am not worried about anything yet. tonight was a simple night. a small family dinner with a friend from hungary. shrimp, spaghetti & tomato sauce our favorite. insalata caprese, black olives and red wine. strawberry ice cream, with fresh strawberries and blueberries for dessert. small pleasures of life. it made me think of the nights in DC also with ice cream and a cup of coffee.
I am missing it still.