Monday, June 07, 2004

Horrible grey day; what's the point of living in L.A. at all if it's going to look like this in June? Sense of pressing commitments that there is only just enough time to meet, some more worthy than others; too much driving; other-directedness; extended family (brunch in Riverside at the place Nixon got married!); deaths of Steve Lacy, Robert Quine; far too many uses of the phrase "sunny optimism." All bad for intellection; near-total failure to render my tenuous grip on "The Work of Art in the Age of..." into a set of lecture notes. Try again tomorrow a.m..

That helped slightly. If you, reader, and I are in the midst of an email exchange, it will resume soon but not immediately.

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