February 1, 2026

It's February and the sky was red tonight.  Sun went down  and the moon came up.  As the moon came up clouds started to appear.

But first, what a beautiful day.  I went out at 12:30 to go to open mic.  We had 35  people  today and only 17 readers, which was kind of perfect.   Not unexpectedly, there was a lot of grief in that room today and poets who could express it.   There was powerful  work.   

I just read 2 of Jay's poems today and none of my own.   I was  so struck   by how much he influenced what I read and how big  an influence on my writing he was, although he never heard me read .  I was never brave enough  to read in Portland when  we'd visit and he would MC open  mic.  

I think I was always fearful of  sharing my work with him.  He could be so academic about his response.  Jay understood my heart, but he had some conventional  ideas about dos and don'ts in writing and in my beginning days I was not up for a lot of criticism.  But he gave me stuff to read all the  time and we had his bookshelves.

The article came out today in Portland.  Kelley sent me the cover shot but not the link.  I'll get it.  

Open mic was moving today.   As I said, a lot of grief.  Tears and fears and luckily some laughter.

I was given  several presents today, too.  And people thanked  me for  being there,  which made me feel good.  Afterwards,  Jo and  I went to Namaste for food and were civilized together and I  didn't cook my  own  dinner, which I have to  tell ya, made me feel good.   I think that the habit of going out to dinner on Sunday, which was probably instilled in me by the time I was 7,  is still a joy in my life. I like  having Sundays to be slow and nurturing and centering.  Jo and I did that tonight. 

We got out just as the sunset was exploding and before the moon had crept over the hillside. Now of course my camera battery lost its charge and I was left with my phone. But I got a couple good ones and unto itself, the experience was mighty pretty.  

The sun went on down and the moon  began to glow.  

Tom's daughter, Elizabeth, posted this photo today.  She said her father was facing  his final days and although he is non-verbal he is very aware of what's around him and interested in seeing people and hearing their stories.  That has always been true and it was my experience on Friday.  I felt Tom was very present and himself.  

That book I've always wanted to write on grief is actually on love and has been all this time.  My grief is so wound up in the amount and intensity that I love.  And it just seems to get stronger as grief increases as I age.  I  just seem to love more.  And I allow myself to feel all of it now.  It's taken a couple of years, but I am truly there.