sharpened knife, smoking french press, jesus and some dead.

transcendence.  end of august. echoes of my mothers comment, sometime back in 1995, after a particularly rough drugrun: “sometimes we must just start over with what we have left.” a strange comment to keep close to awareness, to keep in mind, for some 16 years now. but I do. alchemy of necessity and loss.

leaf-frog. hallucinations abound when you are tired, hot, running too hard, and trying to provoke them. this is not something I encourage, only something I do. sometimes. running is not hallucinogenic, but it sure as hell becomes a cycle, like a drug cycle. . . and solid effort can blur the mind. . . . and so the leaf-frogs are a fine indicator of a good run—its when a frog scuttles across the way, with little hops, only to turn into a leaf upon closer inspection.   wonder if marathon monks encounter these things? 
speaking of the hallucinatory nature of things. . . . fire on the mountain, 1977, jerry and the gang.



august 30 2010. is this the final day of august?

beef bourguignon on the stove top, though I ain’t sure its gonna work. . . . . recently reading much on bourdain and marco pierre white.  dvorak on the onkyo, sixth string quartet, with a French press and a crusted baguette. yesterday brought a solid run of nine miles, following a one mile warm-up walk and pleasure-stroll with my wife and kyote.

September 7th 2010. tuesday post-labor day monday.

six mile run. seven miles y’day. American landscape that is my body. song of myself. parallels of ab ex generation and the blog generation. . . the ME-moir and the nature of the solipsism of America, of identity, of community, of enclosed, label-dominated bodies that are, together and individually, America. human bodies tagged by consumerist assembly line machine. work becomes work becomes worker.

watched a good film y’day: Greenberg. imposed a cold self-consciousness however.

15 days until show. . . . . work progresses in manic episodes.