The other night when we drove home from the grocery store, a big, fat, butter-yellow moon was hanging low over the city. Astronomy, up close and personal.
Art Boy across the street finally got a new tire for his truck. (Several art students live across the street, we refer to each of them individually as Art Boy since we don't know their names.) For weeks he's had this flat tire that he's had to pump up every time he wants to drive somewhere. Up and down the block, black smudges on the pavement show where he's run his compressor. We were just starting to formulate a plan to offer a new tire in exchange for some art.
I crossed the 40,000 word mark on Unmentionable Things last night. This is what I've been writing instead of journal entries. I haven't been able to recycle as many scenes from the earlier version of the story as I'd hoped. Whenever I do get to use one, it feels like Christmas: Free Words! Now I'm in the final stretch of this novel, the last 10,000 words or so when the plot all comes together and the writing is easy as riding a bicycle downhill with the wind at one's back. It makes the first stage, when the words have to be yanked out one by one from . wherever, worthwhile.
After being disappointed by photographs ruined by sunshine glare, I finally figured out that the "Auto" white balance setting does not, in fact, automatically give me the best white balance. I tested out the other white balance settings by photographing the same sunlight object with each different settings and discovered that the sunshine setting is best for sunlight things. Whaddya know? I guess the I'm going to have to be the smart one in this human-camera relationship.
I need to get junk cleared off the back porch. Then I have to find a contractor to replace the bad boards in the porch. Then I have to find a painter to paint the house and porch. I should get started on that today. Or maybe write.
352 words | March 17, 2006 09:57 AM | Real true story