A pillow named moribund, the author lays his head upon
Dear friendly NoL readers,
Lately, ive been worried that I can’t write anymore, and that I’m depressed, and that notes is changing. I’ve made broad proclamations of disinterest and even despair to any who will listen. “Oh, dear. Maybe I’m done.”
Then I remember that David and I sold our home of fifteen years in March, we are uprooted in temporary digs until August, when we move out of town. I’m busy making paintings for a show in August, David retired this month… Umm, maybe it makes sense that I am distracted from notes on looking?
Be sure, there are things coming: a conversation with Pam Jorden, a conversation about fatherhood, and I’m hopeful that a few other things come together soon.