It has been a busy/not busy month. I’m on the move and sitting still. The writing has stopped, for the time being inclined to pull me out of myself and just “be”, after these dog days of summer and expectation of the approaching iron nights. I paint. I water garden. I cook meals. I sit. I walk. Though, “in the head,” I try to allow feelings to come and go freely on the ego expressway. Year after year, these days encompass my most natural season. I do this:
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