And, on the last few pages of "The Heptameron" I'm stricken with inspiration.
Stricken, I say, because it's not so uncommon, these fits, and I hastily grab a pen and paper (conveniently beside me) to make my notes.
Like always, there's 90% of the project, the idea, the painting, play or novel, done. But the remaining 10% is as elusive as ever, and I marvel at how completely unrelated it is. I mean, the inspiration vs the book I'm reading, vs the paintings I'm painting, vs the dreams I'm dreaming and the company I'm keeping, it's completely unrelated. So I make my notes and puzzle on how to complete it, to be added to the hundreds of notebooks of things begun and left unfinished.
***
Today, in the mail "Magic and Mystery in Tibet", I've been waiting for it. And at exactly the right time, as I finish up my book. This looks promising.
***
The boy wants me to attend his parent-teacher interview. Partly because he's done well, partly because he's hoping it'll explain his social awkwardness. The teachers have nothing bad to say and I'm careful to act the role of the concerned and normal parent. He's shocked I can pull it off, but I tell him: "You're not the only one who's studied drama...", and to make matters worse his teachers now mention my carefully "carelessly" dropped comments about his taste for death-heavy-metal, Marilyn Manson posters and dark basements; they "know" him now and he's furious that he's not winning any sympathy...
***
Trade my books in to Fairs-Fair on 17th Ave. 7 books yields me enough credit for 1 paperback. A 7 to 1 profit margin. But Fair's-Fair.
***
And there are the paintings I'm doing for Christmas - everyone gets a painting whether they want it or not. I don't ask because I know what the answer would be. At first there was some thought of doing portraits, but I decided against it, time and talent prohibit that investment, instead I'll do their dogs. The boy, he's seen the rhinoceros in the kitchen, he cautions me against it "You're animals aren't so good, you know dad, remember that bull in the kitchen..." "Rhinoceros" I correct him; "And my animals are just fine, haven't you looked at my people?".