ok i did my talk therapy. i had to do a new check-in, and then found i was not expected and she was in getting her crown of thorns blessed in a st. francis blessing of the plants and animals and i guess something got crossed up whatever so she left her plant to be blessed and we went into the greenhouse and did a nice greenhouse session so maybe that's the place we'll do it now and i'm remembering saying the same thing other times about other places, in fact last time was in the garden by the saint francis statue and i thought the concrete bird he was holding had no head but it was just tucked in and that reminds me of that carving i saw by the horseman statue that was headless and reminded me of egyptian art though i havent seen a headless egyptian bird though they may have been replicating a broken one for millenia ago. they've been digging up lots of human mummies and some really cool bird ones that kind of saddens me because they wanted them to rest in peace for eternity. anyway we did the session and it was fine, i realize talking about therapy is hard, like talking about dreams, though you're awake and remember more it's still hard to talk about because it is like dreaming for me kind of like lucid dreaming. we talked about how contingent reality and personality are. i was going to say now and it's true now is uniquely unprecedented but at the same time it's always been this way and i always felt i didn't know reality or even my own personality yet with the sense there is one but it can't be known entirely or consistently and has no definition but is in continual flux so i want to observe that and work with what is, the world outside and in. i'm reading magdalena, river of dreams now. i dropped migrations as it was bad, at least to me, and i had to get it out of the way to read magdalena which i then returned to with more appreciation. i was feeling harried well not that harried but quickened pulsed about having one other book waiting at the liberry and 4 others in transit but what a luxurious worry that is and now there are no late fees yet my queue is always driving me while i drive my queue it's all fine and i added one more book to the quickening, the big book of pussy embracing my desire to see somewhat abashedly but r. said i knew you were going to and why not? it's not all about literature and i have rivers of words endlessly coming gnome sane. so it all works out even though it seems to all fall apart it's not about reason but following your wanderlust and your errant mind and heart.