I’d really rather take pix than face what I have to organize but, I better do the organizing. Srsly. Especially around the books, the papers. My whole life is filled with paper, paper I have written on, paper journals, junk mail, things I really don’t even want to look at or look back at. Maybe paper attaches itself to writers because we are never without it.
Anyway.
Got past the New Year, got past my BD, next is Valentine’s, yeah right. Getting my own roses, srsly this year — I will. Made a bouquet from white freesias and red burnished looking roses in an orange vase — they look nice, happy, flowers always make me happy, always — whether I planted them or got them. Anyway, here are those — dreamy looking blurs and sharp realism…
Organization. Something I was always very good at at work but no so much here — there is something fab to be said for it, tho.
Doing kitchen, doing the bath, slowly — paring down — has to regain my sense of self somehow. I really do. Trying to eat, will and can.
Walking. My BoyBoy. Helps.
He is the curliest!
VALENTINE BONNAIRE - WRITER 
I dreamed about you this morning! You were singing. And what a fine voice you have. I didn’t recognize the song but.. There was whimsy in it. So. When I woke up. I knew I should stop here to tell you. So I read through your posts of paper and pillows and leaves and poems. Then Boy-Boy. Who couldn’t want to hug him?
Maybe this morning while I wake to grey and overcast you will sing again and I will try to
remember the melody. More leaves than hands. More wind than sand.
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Hope you are ok. Miss u.
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I’m not? Will have to call & discuss, thank you for thinking of me Song.
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you’re welcome always. We’ll talk.
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What he is doing is beyond belief. I’m scared, I really am. I am.
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