Days 22 & 23: Where will we be next week at this time?

Words written: 5,400 (yesterday and today)
Art exhibits attended this month: 6
Minutes spend in Pollock's studio and house: 19

Saturday was not a good writing day, but I did put my words together and then I wrote 5,000 more today and worked on meshing the two manuscripts together. I also read some Jennifer Egan, but was not inspired, perhaps because much of her work is layered with characters and I have, like, one character.

What I've learned so far with one week left to go:

1. I like riding a bike. It's faster than walking and you're getting exercise, plus it feels good to wish down a hill with the sun in your face. I only every once in a while picture myself flying off the ike and splitting my head open on the curb.

2. Chap will adapt and he doesn't have a natural wake up time of 6 a.m. as previously believed. He slept until 9 today, and only jumped out of bed because I did. He will follow me if I walk away. He attacks other big dogs to assert himself, kind of like a short guy who picks fights. But then he calms down and wants to be friends.

3. I get along with other easily, and can balance time between working, socializing, and being alone. I knew this about myself, but it helps to be reminded, and it's also easy to be here with the other artists/writers because they're equally nice people who work hard.

4. I like habit. I like doing the same thing every day. I like going to the library.

5. I can meet self-imposed goals. If I set a goal, and say it out loud, I will almost always do it. If I don't set goals, I feel less pressure to get things done.

6. Something good will come from the writing, even when I think it's not powerful enough.  I read a scene in Josh Ferris' book the other day that was total fluff--about the character trying to remember the names of the people in Friends, but it was totally funny and made sense with the voice. I have to follow a scene through without first judging whether it's good enough to be included.

7. Four weeks is both not enough time and feels like too much. I don't know what I'm going to write this week. I have 143 pages single-spaced after integrating the other pages, and that's with taking out all of the sister stuff and with 30 additional pages from November to be added (maybe, if they work). It's in somewhat chronological order, but I haven't read the whole thing through so next will be putting it in order and figuring out what's missing and what must come out. I'm not sure how to do that and still meet the 4,000 words a day goal--may have to set a different goal, but I also feel locked into that pattern.

And now, pictures.

Our feet at the Pollock studio. You have to wear booties, but you don't get to keep them. 


Floor with famous paint splatters.


Always with a cigarette.

And a dog.

Ilse outside of the studio rocking the Hillary Clinton pantsuit.

Inside their house.


At an art studio. This is an artist's conceptional piece about Venus de Milo or Aphrodite, I forget which. 

Art hanger's representation. This one reminds Ilse of Ronnie, the guy from the pool."Everything reminds me of Ronnie," she said. 

And another. No hands. 


More art. 

Art or possibly the trash can in the studio. 

Glass art?


This was behind the curtain.

Art from last week's exhibition. 

Two portraits of a lost cat who is deaf. 

Pollock's grave stone, 50 times bigger than his dead wife's gravestone. 

Gravestone with baby pig. 

Comedic gravestone. 
Us at the graveyard, me realizing it's time to get my hair dyed again.