Memoirous

Every time I change clothes I notice my tan line—which reminds me of this past summer. Already it is over—after waiting for it to arrive, it is now time to say good bye. Yet— it was the best summer in a long time, for a good long time. It began with a bike ride. Trying to cycle around the south end of the lake, from Grand Rapids back to Chicago. But ended in snow and wind and a phone call from a hot chocolate shop. Come get me. And on the way driving back into Chicago, after being rescued, I got a phone call letting me know that I’d been chosen for an artist residency at a dune shack at the tip of Cape Cod. Mid-May I was on my way to Provincetown. I had no idea of what to expect from a cold, unheated shack without electricity. What I got was sun. Lots of sunny days sitting out on a deck watching the ocean and birds flitting about, reading and writing and tanning. I came home refreshed with millions of words on paper. Some of them stories. This summer I camped out, rode ...

I know I left you dear reader(s) hanging. I was having a bit of a breakdown in my shack by the sea all alone. But, that weary dreary day broke this writer wide open. After that I began to write. And write. Write write writewritewritewrtite. I filled notebook after notebook. Split it at the seam and used the other side of the paper. Front and back. I wrote into the center of many questions, looking for answers. Dateline: Thursday at Thalassa Well a pretty good day. Yesterday I went into town. It took me 20 minutes to get out, Must be a record. Once I got to the road I took my time and in half an hour was to town and ate a sandwich outside thelibrary where I spent 2 hours reading e-mail and charging devices. Gave me some wiggle room with the phone, though battery juice will probably be low by Saturday morning when I leave. Also extravagant with the I-Pod, listening to news and music. All these little restrictions I've put on myself are coming off--all the counting of bread sli...