Housecleaning

I started today, tossed out all my workshops and posters, cut up a bunch of those plastic bound packets. (Harder than you would think.) I found my file of to do lists (I save then obsessively.) But I was relentless, even the ones with notes from conversations with friends, where I wrote down what the earrings that Pablo brought me from Chile are called. Trapelacuchas, they are Mapuche. I found the notes Julio made when he corrected the emphasis I put on words like sanduche y imagino.

I had a fit of melacholy, as the contents of the bookcase began to shrink, as I began to divide things up into piles to give to people. A cup of coffee and peanut butter and honey sandwich made seemed to provide some comfort. But yes I am settling in for the duration of the transition blues.