There is no end to the improvisation, born into it, die into it. Cinnamon sticks in the coffee grinder, better than buying powder, stays fluffy for many days after. My committee for the phd business has materialized. Three writers and all supportive, smart and creative people, lucky none make me squirm. Reading the mind blowing poetic improvisers like Joerg Piringer, Aram Saroyan and the one word poem lighght, wish I knew you earlier. Heard about a teacher who had a big book and after people took his course because he was famous instead of because they were interested. They held the Folk Alliance conference in the mid 90s in Memphis. Pretty exciting for everyone. I drove all the way from Clanbrassil. Never saw so many little birds before sitting in the trees as at night, blending with the branches. Many people went to Al Green’s church that Sunday. Not this little bird watcher, felt embarrassed for him. Why go to a church service to gawk at someone trying to help others have spiritual experiences. I don’t doubt Al Green was used to it but no thanks, I’ll do Sun Studios (though that too was about what was formerly). Came up with a green bridge for the new song about red.