from a journal

Day FOURTEEN

Not worrying about all the places where I have writing. It’s far too many, I know, but that’s what my pattern and persona perpetuates. Random and Road-thrown, windblown prose. Sipping my latte in the 2250 building, across a parking lot from my home building. Friday, thinking about writing, the fact that I’ll never not be sharing ideas with writers and students. Lecture approaching, scheduled on campus next week for three nights. Won’t let self slow, won’t let any impediment be an impediment. All impediments are potential, with your productivity. This morning I’m musical, I’m wanting to read student writing, my own writing as student and instructor and see where it goes. I don’t want to know, and I’m one averse to destination one always more prone to more Road. Miscible day, and sitting here in this seat in the other building — breathing to my page and my madness, and story.

You being productive shouldn’t be a simple aim of “being productive”. I do write a lot about work and movement, and I guess what you could tag as productivity, but really these notes are meant to explore purpose… why you are where you are and doing what you’re doing. Like I said in a video I just shot, don’t worry about how your story will be read, at all. Just keep with the page… your words. Worry about how YOU will read your story, down the Road. And if you need a pause, or a meditative lull, then take it…