Mine was clean

Drove to Laguna this morning.  Found my dream.  Spent the afternoon at Sawdust Art Festival--here is a free idea, someone figure out how to get Instagram pics to upload to Blogger--  Because the trees growing through the art booths built in to the canyon walls??  Come on.  You need to see it to believe.  Laguna I'm yours. Take my idea someone I'm sure it will make you a nice little egg.

Put some applications in today, finished my portion of grad school apps yesterday.  Started reading this bitchen essay on poetry while at the outdoor mall in the sun.  How academia in the second half of the century  made it a specialized art form. That devalued its primal social function of speaking for the people.  YEP yep and yep.  Making it so the only people who care about poetry are the "poets"--now defined as the ones who paid the money to go to school programs to gain access to who's who.  Reminds me of Gary Snyder's short piece on a man and woman who went up to spend a season together in a fire lookout.  When a co-ranger got up there to check on them he said but all that was left was two assholes jumping through each other.

Google it Dana Gioia Can Poetry Matter.

Picked up Greyson and chilled with him last night so Derryne could tattoo.  He was at Annie's, she fed me dinner with her fam then made calls to Newport friends to play whose who and who knows who and scoop out info and embarrass me.  Orange County is so full of all these insular small towns, and rivalries.  It's funny and odd.  Greyson is 10.  We took a walk downtown at sunset along the beach and I realized, as I always do, how easy it is to hang out with dudes between the ages of 10 to 20.  Like we just laugh and make fun of each other and I swear to god no other time in life is it easier for me to be myself.  The lady getting the tattoo, when we got back to 12th street, was like oh sure that's because it's all fun...no worries no stress.  You just get to be.

There was sun inland all day but the coast is still socked in.  Derryne cancelled on me for Duende Flamenco and dancing.  I have no plans and will probably take a nice bike ride then read.


Yes, that's just it, isn't it?  I just get to be.  Maybe the main difference goes: When Grey and I got back to 12th last night his face was covered in chocolate, covered, from sweet treats.  And I had enough self-consciousness to make sure mine was clean.