Writing with my eyes closed would make more attractive stories.

I've been staring at this blank piece of screen for a few minutes now wondering what I might write. Like it's an address to the joint session of Congress. Honestly, this is what comes of using Dragon for a couple days. Which I'm not doing now. I'll switch.

Okay, now I'm on Dragon and we'll see how that goes. I turned on the auto punctuation yesterday, so we'll see how close that comes to

I was originally not going to use Dragon for the blog today because people are awake, it's Saturday, and I figured that they would come in and say who are you talking to, you're saying stuff, we'll call the home and see if they have any openings there. But I decided to go ahead.

Yesterday was warm and rainy, today, it's sunny. Pretty nice out, at least in the high 40's, maybe in the low 50's. I didn't paint yesterday. I still intend to today. I was trying overnight to think of what else to the paint and I keep coming back to the abstract pictures that I want to get in there and get used to doing rather than just copying other pictures. During my shower, I gave some thought to that thing that happened to me when I was young, of having being sick, laying in bed with a fever and the sensation of having giant lips and hands of not being quite sure where the edges of my body were.

That feeling of not knowing where the edges of my body were was very much with me during my adolescence. I felt very specifically that I didn't know where my body edges were. I remember that awkward feeling of turning around and unexpectedly hitting things with my arms and my side, always feeling like a bull in a china shop, as if someone had glued on extensions to my arms, hips, that was the feeling growing and having my body change without warning.

I thought maybe there was some way I could put that into a picture not sure what that would be. I'm also still thinking like going back in changing the picture of the tree that I did the other day. It bothers me. I'm not sure what's wrong with it. Yesterday I realized that I didn't like the shadow of the tree. It should be much, much darker underneath the leafy portion.

I wrote a very long email to Peter yesterday, haven't heard back yet. It's mostly about congratulating them on his retirement party. He should be graduating in a few days and. It is like graduating I guess, graduating backwards. Today is Greg Boyer's birthday. I wrote him a happy birthday wish on Facebook. I got an email from Roberta that the package with the two pictures had arrived. They were happy with them. That's nice.

I don't know what's wrong with my imagination. I can't come up with the idea for a picture that's doesn't represent some concrete thing. The ones I like most on the wall are the ones that were just doodling around the page after I had finished the picture. They let me look at what is there and guess what it is, even though I was the one that painted it. It is like the story writing that I was doing, where, when I go back and read it again later. I don't recognize it. And so it kind of attracts me in two layers; one is that I kind of wonder at the phrasing in the story and the second layer is that I wrote it and don't recognize it. I don't know what that means.

The other day I was thinking about that story, the Probert story. I thought that I should go back and work on that finish it. That story is the closest to being something that I'd like to read. Admittedly, there are some very slow places in the story, and it's not at all insightful from a personal standpoint, but I don't think it really has to be as long as it's interesting reading.

I do like writing the kind of stories that are psychologically attractive to me. That's more of a personal exploration rather than writing for someone else's enjoyment interest.

So obviously, this particular piece is working better than the other things I've done in dictation and I think that's because I've slowed down and closed my eyes. As I was dictating that last paragraph. I thought I should really write stories with my eyes closed. They would be more attractive. I don't know how I would do that, but I think it would be a good idea.

Right now I'm also not shouting at the microphone the way I was the other day actually. I'm speaking very quietly and just leaning forward with my eyes closed. It's a little bit like the typing exercise of I did before, where I didn't look at the screen while I typed. Having my eyes open, reading as I type, or speak really triggers my OCD; makes me act like the cowboy with an unruly herd that I can't stop picking at. That kind of bothersome activity, doesn't make for a happy herd and it also doesn't make for good writing or good thinking for that matter.

I think I've done enough damage. For right now. I should really move on. See what I can get done.

More later,


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