an artists' date

As I exited the Old Armory after voting yesterday (don't ask how I feel today), I spotted this old blue Citroen. It wasn't until I looked at it at home later that I noticed the big white dog looking at me as I took the picture.

I want on an artist's date with myself today - the kind Julia Cameron talks about in her books. She states: In its most primary form, the artist date is an excursion, a play date that you preplan and defend against all interlopers...something to nurture your creative consciousness, your inner artist.... She goes on to suggest that a couple of hours each week should be set aside for this. I didn't plan today's excursion but it loosely fit her criteria anyway. The day was gloriously warm, coppery (leaves) and blue. I drove into town for errands and to browse in the office supply shop where I bought a thin spiral notebook with pages three shades of blue. A quick right turn took me to El Gamal for lunch - a mid-eastern restaurant in an old bakery space. I had a delicious falafel plate with fresh baked pita bread, mint tea, and the blue notebook. I ran into acquaintances, but was left generously alone for almost two hours. In the background, a plethora of old and new Bob Dylan albums played and sometimes I found myself incorporating his words into my own writing - knock, knock, knockin on heaven's door  or what a drag it is to know ya - like that.

And here's the news. We have ears! The baby knitting is finished for now (more is planned for Christmas, but I'll deal with that in December) and it's been shipped off - one sweater, four hats. The baby's expected appearance has been updated and he may arrive any day now. Guess I just squeaked by in time. Did I say my nickname is Chaotic Procrastination?

The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed...
                                                                                                                    William Faulkner