Saturday, August 5, 2000

1:21 p.m. Some days have possibilities behind their flat facades. Today was one of those days. Maybe every day is like this. Maybe I don't look hard enough.

Today I got a whole lot of work done, a whole lot of slow, nit-picking stuff done, but I could still feel the beautiful possibilities behind the lame stupidity that most people would call my typical day. Maybe I'm losing it; maybe I'm finding it.

For example. Exhibit #1. I worked on fonts today. I finished printing out the last of my vast font collection, and believe me when I say it is vast. It fills 12 loose-leaf binders so far, and it's organized two ways *at the same time.*

Printed out on the backs of colored paper; organized by type -- serif, sans serif, handwriting, Ye Olde, you name it. I've been cross-referencing the heck out of it, as well. If I find a particular letter "X" that's really special, I note it with a post-it. Additionally, all the fonts are arranged in alphabetical order within these divisions, oh -- glory be.

Yes, I do believe.

So, it's Saturday. Igor's doing a radio broadcast and I'm: printing out the fonts, editing two different manuscripts at the same time, and even -- doing the laundry. Everything in the house is running at peak efficiency.

The shower leak: a mere spout form the shower head, blasting against the ceiling, rather than leaking from the ceiling. Fixed with a minimum of fuss, done-it-ourselves. The printer? No paper jams today. The diet? Going swimmingly, thank you very much.

Tonight I sliced and baked an eggplant, to give you some idea. Plus gazpacho. You can't -- even if you hired a trainer -- you can't get any more healthy than this. Plus! My fabulously watered and cared-for potted plants? Yes? In my own concrete jungle? Well, today they attracted a hummingbird. Yessss.

So, some days it all comes together. Some days you hum. There's a polished piece of nonfiction/fiction behind these beautiful days, and I'm almost able to touch it. My dreams are modest. My heart is full. I am so grateful to have been able to share this space on earth with you ... and you ... and you.

And the illusive, industrious hummingbird.