Is it Friday yet? No, of course not. It's only hump day and the way my energy level is, I'm hoping to make it to Friday by shere gravity. It's been so busy at work lately that I am hard pressed to want to do anything requiring major commitment by the time I get home. Tonight I have a reading from an anthology that is just off the press. So I'll be heading out shortly to read rather than go home. I didn't do a NoPoWriMo daft last night and I likely won't do one tonight either given the poetry event. Perhaps the poetry gods will be kind to me and grant special dispensation.
I've actually been doing some charcoal sketches during this past week. My youngest daughter was like, damn, when did you learn to draw. I told her if and when it happens I'd let her know. My main reason for wanting to do some sketches is to sharpen my awareness to my surroundings. To better grasp the texture of things. I remember when I saw Donald Hall here in town a couple years back, he made the remark that he learned more to benefit his poetry from his friendship with the sculptor Henry Moore than any poet. I was struck by this. I figure it can't hurt if I am able to awaken my awareness to greater experiences.
I'm off to my reading.