11 days to blast off.
11 days to grad school summer session.
11 days to marathon art making and thinking and doing.
All in the super-charged environs of the Shiny Apple - delightful distractions and all. Suddenly memory rewinds to one day, when the pressures of one day in particular were so great that I escaped our building, 66 Fifth Avenue, for a one-hour walk around Union Square - OFF THE GRID, unfettered, notebook-free.
Strains of DreamWeaver back, too.
For art's sake am reading Mary Roach's book Stiff and now have a deeper gleaning into understanding how J.P. Witkin procures his own for his own. Bodies, cadavers, stiffs, they're freakin' everywhere.
Had to shoot an autopsy/dissection last year for Middling City U and the stench of formaldehyde or embalming fluid hung in the air like a swarm of bees.
Knife Call meeting coming up, more making, more doing, with my new bandmates.
Who rocks.
You rock.
I rock.

Love rocks.