There is space in my head today, the kind of space a westerner appreciates, with sweeps of sky thinning into infinite firmament, mountain ranges on the horizon, shrubs, the many passions of dirt..
One job ended. It had been a long spell of databasing and so much information my brain rearranged itself. That's okay. It's malleable, my brain is. Further arrangements can be made and the rearrangement isn't so bad. I felt its impact a few weeks ago when I wrote a few drafts. Not so later with a different draft but any influence on a poem is if not good, then at least worth consideration and evaluation.
Makes me wonder, did driving myself so much for these past few months open a few new passageways, block a door or two, narrow a circuit? Does the new wallpaper work for me or doesn't it. Yeah, I'm being abstract but then I'm not saying so much that detail is called for.
Only four hours of work today. A full half-day vacation--time to detox or adjust as if I just stepped off a cross-country flight and am vibrating in solidarity with the airplane.
Something new on Monday. And creation this weekend. Energy's being lowered like stars onto a stage. Everything's a prop. Every prop serves.
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