I have finished my fat little journal while I've been here. I wrote on the last page tonight in the bar at the quaint old Mendocino Hotel while listening to local poets read their work. I sat at the bar between two other singles, and drank a glass of wine and ate some soup. I looked around the room and realized I was likely the only non-local there, and the youngest by a good 15 years. I felt a little conspicuous. So I made the most of it by ordering a glass of scotch, neat, and hauling out my knitting and getting comfortable. Hey, if I'm going to be looked at, I figure I should at least be entertaining.
I made the new journal before I left, expecting that I would fill the old one over the course of this week. I'm glad to start it here and bring the energy of this place back with me in my bag, in the book I carry with me all the time. I covered it with the last scraps of a beautiful piece of blue silk that I also used to line an evening bag I made last spring. The pages are Arches Text Wove which takes paint like a dream, but is still lightweight enough to make a book with, and I made it just a tiny bit bigger and fatter than the Hand Book I just finished. I really liked the elastic band on the Hand Book, and the envelope inside the back cover, so I copied those features, too. It's heft and blankness is a bit daunting, but I'm sure it will be splotched and wrinkly and broken in in no time.
I listened to a poet who I really enjoyed tonight, though I haven't yet done a search to find her published work. Her name is Theresa Whitehill, and she read poems full of sensous imagery in a way that made the microphone pop and whine and her shirt fall off her shoulders. She spoke as much with her hands and her body as with her voice. And she was wearing big black boots with a dress - just my style. She read a poem titled "Ave Maria" that had the most beautiful line that I'm going to misquote here about an angel lover whose "wings trembled with the effort of tenderness." I put down my knitting while she read. I coudn't possibly focus on anything else.
Home tomorrow. Part of me is ready to go, but part of me wants to stay for another month.