Remembering Myself

dream wording seizes brain thought control helpless night Village Voice moved Santa Fe swam out to lunch creeping derangement haunts me turn on light sit up scribble reluctant write while sleeping bedside laptop antidote From the hidden bottom corner shelf as if by magnetism, looking for something to read, I plucked "On a Spaceship With Beelzebub" by David Kherdian, the story of his pursuing the teachings of Gurdjieff through "the work," and read half the book in a rush. Remembering, remembering myself, I did my deep-water workout in the pool more calmly this morning and swam six lengths: I could barely do two a month ago. A generous friend directed me to Gurdjieff's ideas in 1973 in Nova Scotia, which led to major life changes and much creativity: marriage, babies, plays, harpsichords. I had almost forgotten. Preparing another script of my unproduced play "Heavy Pockets" to send out into the world again I laugh out loud it's a wonderful play I wish someone would do it better still give me a theatre and let me do it