I AM IN THE DOLLAR TREE IN THE SHOPPING PLAZA AT THE END OF BEACH AVENUE.

This sounds like a legend, but trust me, it's there. There are real places everywhere you go, that if you phrase it just right, it sounds like you're in fiction, myth, or history. It's how language works. It's how our brains work.
  1. I write intros to everything. Intros, then artist statements. I write artist statements for a living. I explicate other people's processes for them. Gulls are circling my car now. That's not really being a capital "w" writer?
  2. I assign essays for a living. I make the mistake of thinking that when I run off a quick verbal list of topics college kids could write about, that they have already written these essays, & thereby it's their work, not mine. They haven't written them yet; it's the false attribution I make in my head bc I'm cheering them on. I love essay prompts.
  3. I promise myself I will give myself credit for how many essay prompts I have generated; I refuse to write an essay prompt now; I resolve to write fun lists of these now legendary prompts from within my fun time. It's a fool's errand to think I could fill in all of them--actually, it's silly to think I would want to.
  4. Manufacturing prompts is a thing we're trained to do to lead kids into recognizing themes & tropes & symbols. It's how we train ourselves to train them to see. It's how we try to raise the cultural literacy IQ. Maybe I've collapsed a few layers of the process here; maybe that too is how the brain works. Which mythological pipeline runs thru me?
  5. Things I bought in Dollar Tree (where "Everything's $1.00"): (1) shiny gift bag picturing 2 photorealistic ice cream cones; (1) package of tissue paper (black-fuchsia-white-chartreuse-skyblue w/a sparse splattering of tiny neon dots, evocative of clothing of the 80s); (1) package of 4 mechanical pencils (I only write in my day planner in pencil).
  6. What I will do with the gift bag & tissue paper: I'm a mixed media artist. Will I make something with them today? I don't know; I hope so; I'd like to. It's 40 degrees out today; my art supplies are in the unheated garage. It could become an entire performance to locate the materials & identify which space to work in. I hate it when that happens.
  7. Next list.