This is what’s going on with me now:
I’m downtown in the kitchen of my vegan lunch café four days a week.
I’m fixing up my wreck of a house. It was built in 1860. The oldest parts of the house are fine. The mid-20th century add-ons are falling apart.
I’m writing, mostly in notebooks. Morning pages, soup notes, a commonplace book, the notebook next to my computer, the notebook on my art table.
I’m listening to Sarah Shook & the Disarmers.
My music partner and I are recording a demo.
I have two novellas in progress. One is nearly finished. The other isn’t.