an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Friday, December 8, 2006

. . . .


As it turns out, Internet, but no printer in this room; in my room, laser printing but no Internet. And the quandary raises any number of Great Possible Things To Be Done if only the printer and the Internet could be brought to work together--in my room, of course. The wireless is broken; the printer in this room, broken. Glenda spent an hour on the phone with a cable tech last night who said "hmm, strange, call back tomorrow," and I changed the printer out with no success. So here it is: the obstacle forcing some kind of manic focus towards Great Possible Things To Be Done, where just two days ago I hadn't taken those residency applications to heart. No, while I was on the plane, the Poets & Writers section announcing residencies and conferences was more like the Sky Mall, or the Target wishbook.

Maybe next year, dear.


Okay, I sent to Junta. Did you send to Junta?


"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

[contact me:]

what o'clock it is


live flowers