March 7: I see a number of things, here. I see potential – room for words, for ideas and thoughts and feelings and stories. I see a blank space – one that has been blank, one that will remain blank until I choose to pick up the pen resting on it. I see a step in the right direction – the creation of the time and the place to work. Because that’s what this feels like these days: work.
March 8: It really is the little things, some days. The sun sneaking through layers of clouds. The sense of relief when you come home, and shut the door, and turn the lock. The right music at the end of the day. The sense of accomplishment mixed with a feeling of loss, almost grief, when you finish a good book. The light weight of a worn blanket. And half a grapefruit, so fresh and sweet and juicy that it actually makes you smile.
March 9: I’ll be writing separately about tonight, later tonight. This was taken outside of Nella Pizzaria Napoletana, a restaurant I’d wanted to try since it opened late last year. Tonight I went and was served family-style, with 9 other strangers, as a participant in Across the Table, a program designed to facilitate conversations over dinners at various restaurants around the city. We enjoyed delicious salads and risottos and pizzas and desserts, all of which were passed and shared as we conversed and ate and drank for nearly three hours.