Day 38, and I started the morning feeling a bit defeated and already anxious for the day. But then something came undone in that rack. I felt free and creative, and more or less not caring about consequence or what would happen. Just keep moving, keep writing.
Didn’t sell a lot yesterday at the winery, and not caring too much. More and more, a minimization of wine is likely. Not that I have any will of any sort of ill or illness toward wine, but I do want to focus on this more, starting this morning, with writing.
Wish a couple people a good week…. Done. Realizing that it is NOT Sonic that I’m selling. Really, I don’t need to know shit about the internet or DMT or FLE or hosted voice, or any of that. I sell the story — NO, I don’t sell it. I speak it. I share it, and with kindness and honesty.
Need to get out of the office, today. Walk around Airport Blvd and those little off-streets. Stop in and say hello, talk to them, and that’s it. When the conversation sprouts, then get into some Sonic specifics but not too many. Yes this is very much a note to self… writing about selling, or not selling. How with everything you do you’re going to have to speak something, narrate something. This week is absolutely going to be magnanimous and mammoth. Why… ’cause that’s the way I’ll have it written. Looking forward to class tomorrow through Thursday, and everything else I can muster and gather for work. Want to not only produce, but fly… to places I’ve never even thought of, that I maybe at one point in my story in one or more of my moods I thought I wasn’t going to attain.
Last night watching the wedding video with the babies, I was shaken by time’s brazen and bizarre disregard for us. IT just moves. And it’s just an IT. I move quicker, I move with more roar and realization. Why do I ever NOT have this feeling, that I have right now, writing and re-writing my own world. I calm, center, focus, not get too self-endorsed.