I went to a fun party…

I went to a fun party tonight, an art-in-progress party, where everyone was encouraged to bring art pieces (songs, bits of stories, poems, knitting, weaving, paintings, sketches, etc.) that they were working on (or had finished). Lots of half-done pieces, very interesting stuff, great energy. I was particularly struck by some amazing metal work, and by a man who did quick watercolors of most of the people in the room (and who kindly let me keep the one of me), and by a beautiful old poem, gorgeously set to music; I may try to get a copy of that one. Oh, and Mark (my old college roommate Marg's husband) did a great song about apostrophes and relationships; it'll be up on his website in a week or two, and I'll try to point y'all to it then. I read "Flowers and Branches", which seemed to go over well.

I came home around 1:30 but am obviously still buzzing from the party since it's now 3 a.m. and I'm still not sleepy. I just made some chili sausages for the brunch tomorrow and cleaned up the living room so it's now fit to be seen by the Hyphen magazine photographer who's coming at 10:00. I'm going to be short on my beauty sleep, obviously. Ah well -- she can take photos of the haggard writer in her immaculate apartment. :-) Once she's come and gone, I'll finish cooking -- the soup is basically made, and I'm planning on a frittata of some sort as well. I'm leaning towards tomato-artichoke-onion at the moment, but might end up doing potato instead of artichoke. We'll see how experimental I feel in the morning (and whether I feel up to doing something different with the potatoes to make an extra dish -- probably dicing them, tossing them in olive oil, salt and pepper and roasting them). If I somehow have magic amounts of time (not likely) I'll make some blueberry muffins too. But now I'm just talking crazy talk. :-)

Okay, I'm going to go clean my bathroom and see if *that* makes me sleepy. If that doesn't do it, I don't know what will -- maybe I'll just stay up at that point and bake muffins.

But hey, sitting in the dark and typing is making my eyes want to close a bit. It's that automatic writer response to the computer, that it must be sleepy time. Sleep is better than writing. Close your eyes. Close the computer. It's soft and warm and dark in the bedroom...

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