No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-03-01 - 2:37 a.m.

the unbearable flatness of being

it is late late late. i got home not too long ago after a nasty trek through the rapidly piling snow. fortunately i was not driving, but had car-pooled with cornwall. i did this because sheila got a flat tire this afternoon. i was pulled over in a little parking lot off of broadway, putting on the spare, when a guy drove up, stopped and said to me

"ma'am, would you like a hand?"

i looked up to say "no thanks". he said "oh, sorry. i guess you're okay."

both a humorous little insight into the life of a long-haired hippy freak, and a sad commentary on gender roles in our society.

by the by, lear tonight was flatter than a pancake. i had no focus, and flubbed several lines.

i'm tired, and tomorrow's going to be a looooong day.


if you are not penpal, you can ignore this. i know i'm long overdue for an email, but linux browsers and certain sites apparently don't mix. i can read email but not send. grrrr. i'll sort it out soon, i promise.

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