Haven’t had much to say this last week…been too busy enjoying the birthday festivities, playing with Chinche, exploring the new deck, making presents, reading, pondering snatches of dreams, polishing application essays, shaking off the jobby zombification, even dragging the cello out of the case.

And, of course, writing.  I’ve finally found a system of four separate notebooks that keeps me organized and working.   My work, that is, which is haunting me here at my cubicle now.  It started as the fifth short story, quickly expanded, flirted with graphic format, and then began whispering words like “novel” in my ear.  At only ten pages, that’s a bit premature — but there are pages and pages in my head and dancing just out of sight.  Not to mention structure, and voices, and research to do…and so I plod daily, happily along and let its fog roll around me when it comes to me at work.  Like today.  Only six more hours till I can be home and into it again.

Dream fragments — two nights ago, riding south on the freeway with Ali and someone in the back, singing Modern Things all together.  I can’t remember having sung in a dream before.  Last night, Commander Riker does the Jon Stewart spiel: “That’s our show, hope you enjoyed it.  And now, your moment of zen.”

Also, I found a sweet blog with lovely pictures and thoughts regarding Detroit and urban prairies.  It’s so…enticing.  Makes me wonder about the family I have from there, way back.  Makes me wonder, in general…just the words “urban prairie” ringing in my head like some kind of mantra. 

Prairie: tract of level or undulating grassland in N.Amer., 1773, from Fr. prairie, from O.Fr. praerie (12c.), from V.L. *prataria, from L. pratum “meadow,” originally “a hollow.” The word existed in M.E. as prayere, but was lost and reborrowed to describe the American plains.


~ by Arrrow Marie on December 9, 2008.

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