Hey, would you look at that - it's 12:41 am again. No way! Two nights in a row.

I took Hugo to the parking lot of the Unitarian Church in Kensington to practice driving. First we played catch with the football because we both decided it was a good thing to do on a nice summer night, 

Isabelle and Hugo were maybe going to go for a run this morning at 6:00. They asked me last night if I wanted to go: "Yes - if you go I will go", I replied.

Reading old journals and seeing myself stuck, struggling, discouraged. So lost! It's clear to me now what I should have, or could have done.

The construct that we call self: how very fragile it is. All the rules that surround it. All the conditions that have to be met for us not to feel threatened.

Some things just can't be explained. Like a bag full of lemonheads left on a bus stop bench.

My hair just turned a very bad corner. Went from Tom Waits to Tom Selleck overnight. Don't know how that happened. Need to sort it out straight away.

I'm having déjà vu, like I've done this before. Like, maybe 271 times before. Weird.

I almost went bowling last night. For my birthday. I put on my best polyester slacks and a very itchy wool sweater that seemed like a sweater a bowler might wear.

Some words I used on Thursday, May 21st, 1991…

There is no notebook in the bedside table, so I write on the San Francisco Guide to the Arts, in the narrow spaces between advertisements.

THINGS I DID TODAY - Went on a hike in Tilden with Michael. Talked about lust, among other things.

I was at Creative Growth last night for an opening and saw a film by Susan Janow called 'Questions'. For several minutes she sat not moving or talking, while various questions that she wrote came on the screen. I answered some of them:

I went to the dentist when my mom's health was declining - a couple months before she died - and I was greeted with the usual small talk, which I normally participate in, but I just wasn't up for it on that day.

I found a box of letters from an old girlfriend. I knew I didn't want to keep them, but throwing them in the garbage didn't seem right. It felt disrespectful.

it's not the doing of the thing that's hard—it's overcoming the massive doubt and resistance. "what's the point? nobody cares. none of this matters."

Played Paradiso last night. Went to Rijksmuseum. Saw Rembrandt's "The Night Watch". There's a dog in the painting that looks like a ghost.

This is what I do: I fold my hands and close my eyes and wait for the gusts of anger and fear to settle down. I never know how long it will take. 

In sculpture, an armature is a framework around which the sculpture is built. This framework provides structure and stability.

Went on a run this morning. First time since last summer? I would like to get a prize, or some points or something.