“Any form of art can only develop by means of single mutations by individual creators. If only traditional conventions are used an art will die, and the widening of an art form is bound to seem strange at first, and awkward. Any growing thing must go through awkward stages. The creator who is misunderstood because of his breach of convention may say to himself, 'I seem strange to you, but anyway I am alive.”
― Carson McCullers

Slept well under the full moon; it did not wake me through the curtainless window as it often does. A day for a run, again. The cool weather of the woods in the early morning. Trees are passing the peak colors at the river, and bare branches begin to take over the view. I have poetry workshop this morning. Hmmm. My poem needs work. The feedback made sense to me. Always helpful, occasionally daunting, to hear what is confusing––what is clear to me that I have not made clear. Students in my monologue workshop have worked hard on their revisions these past weeks; we enter the final week and prepare for the showcase, online. This showcase is the opening even for the Power of Words Conference. Yeeks! I know it’s going to go well. This has been a chance for me to work with two actors I haven’t worked with in years, Liz Rose, and her daughter Teagan, and to renew our friendship and creative collaboration. And, my own daughter, Franci, and a young woman, friend of hers, who is also terrific, Jamila Capitman. I signed my contract for my poetry manuscript today; exciting. Then, I went for a wonderful afternoon swim. I knew I would when I realized it would rise to 70 degrees at least today. Beach deserted, sun on the water. No hesitation, dove in, a prickling in my arms, passing quickly, then, just pure pure pleasure, feeling strong and blessed and.belonging.