Let It Come Down

Up early, dead black night, I immediately head to the kitchen to brew up a pot of coffee. No dreams last night. Yesterday, I pretty much floated through everything, in my own bubble, not grasping, just taking it all in, letting it go. Visited the old homestead: my father quoted Lewis Black, 'we are all snowflakes.' Seems about right. Are there any rules? Who knows?

Today, rehearsal at Peter Jones Gallery. David heads back to Sante Fe tonight. I have 'low expectations' for the play, (I'm happy with the piece, an excellent cast), things are going well, but my attitude is: 'play it as it lays.' Maybe its the best frame of mind, not expecting, letting things come.