The time change is really affecting me. I can't remember ever being so confused by crossing time zones. I can't figure out when to sleep or eat. Also, when alone and not responsible for other people's forward motion, decision making is confusing. I am slow and a little stupid out here.
And yet, I got to explore Pike Street Market, took a long walk out to the Olympic Sculpture Park, sat for a while by a tiny "pocket beach" right on the sound and watched the waterfowl and the mountains and the freighters, encountered a hipster in an overcoat sitting on a park bench reading an ipad and smoking a meerschaum pipe (honestly, I witnessed this), drank lots of latte, and reconnected with an old coworker.
Today the conference begins in earnest, and my head will crushed.
Reading: Trying desperately to finish Looking for Alaska.
Writing: Note taking
Lunch & Dinner: Lunch, which was also a very late breakfast, because I couldn't figure out sleeping and eating, was at a French cafe near the market. I had the Oeufs en Meurette (poached eggs in beefy red wine gravy ove garlic croutons) with frites.
For dinner I met up with Mary, an old friend from my newspaper days, 5 lifetimes ago, who took me to the a place that shares the second floor of a building with a ballroom dance studio. I had arugula salad and gnocchi. We talked about life, art making, feminism, trans issues, education, kids, marriage equality, jobs, cities, and so on. It was nice.
Soundtrack: Freight trains by the sculpture park. An accordion player in the market.
Corvid Sightings: At lunch crows flying past the front window lured me back out into the sunshine and on my way to the sculpture park. At dinner the was a large painting of a crow on the wall behind Mary. There were probably others too, but those stuck.
Random thing: As I was walking out to the sculpture park, I stopped for a latte at a place cattycorner (kittycorner?) to this, the Labor Temple:
|a location appealing to a granddaughter of a onetime Longshoreman's organizer and Daily Worker jazz critic.|