Today, photographic, begging me to capture. With ink, and snap. It urged me to pair the two. Even with the chilling dark cover above the dormant vines. Still a bit sick. My Room manager suggested I take a sick day tomorrow, as to definitively and comprehensively defeat this bug. I really should. But, not sure if I want to. Love being within those walls, around those remedying characters far too much. Not sure what I’ll do. I’m torn. If I do take a day, I’d get so much done in the stretch of writing, manuscripts. Guess you’ll know, WE’ll know, tomorrow. Time to sip some Zin. Yes, I may be on a bit of a Zin kick, even though I’ve been lately stating for record I’m Zinned-out.
Looking at one of my stills, gives me the idea for a suspenseful short, or a collection thereabouts. The genre, Literary varietal, one that continues to taunt me. If I tomorrow take day, maybe that’s something upon which I could finally, seriously, freewrite. Looking again at the photo, taken from the winery’s back porch. Settled.
Tired, as I moved quite a few cases of wine earlier in the day, when the symptoms had their tentacles around each particle of my vessel. Not sure I’m in the best state to type. If I take the day off tomorrow, I can get that Rex Pickett novel. Looking forward to reading his latest colony of pages. Was just reading his blog. Makes me think twice about mikeslognoblog. But I’m still thinking...
Thinking about a dream house, with a dream wine cellar, with a fantastic writing seat, maybe to the side of, with a view of a pond. A pool? I’m just dreaming. Reserving such a right, to write in that light. Reconsidering this Log’s termination. I thought maybe such a deadline would somehow profoundly propel me, as Paris did. As Kelly does. Where is she? What is she drawing? What’s in her glass?
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