2002-10-11 12:43 p.m.
the voices in my head keep playing the drums

half the time, I'm writing blind.

just like now...that's because my glasses are off and I'm squinting like a mole.

but most of the time, I'm writing blind...life is always smacking me around, filling me with new ideas, knocking my preconceived notions off-kilter like a pinball being smacked by a nun's ruler (and if you don't think that'll make a difference, you've appartmently never heard the crack of wood hitting a wrist before).

you write your outline, you figure out who your characters are, inside and out (or hopefully do...I've known a lot of folks who don't bother)...and then one of them smacks you upside the head, yelling, "no, stupid! I'M the one who's supposed to do that!" And the dimensions of the piece deepen, you look like a genius, and you were just taking direction from the voice in your head.

I love where I live now. The other neighborhoods — Park Slope and Sunset Park — had their moments, but in general, felt unwelcome. Now I'm deeper into Brooklyn, surrounded by Russian Jews, nestled into a place of my own (which is a few months away from being gloriously decked out)...and it feels like being somewhere between my grandparents' old neighborhood and swimming in my landlady's roots (since everyone's got her accent).

And life goes on. Had drinks with Tabi last night...laughed and smiled and talked shit. So comforting.