Bluelips

Last night, Sara Mumolo and I, Jack Morgan, read at the Eleanor Harwood Gallery in San Francisco.
It was wildly good, I must say. The more readings I do, the more nervous I am. I am going to do fewer of them. Thank God it's summer. More writing, more silent reading. Mumolo was calm and collected as a book of stamps but way more exciting. I love her new suff very much, and I always like to see her reading in front of a crowd.
John Chiara's photos were awesome, too. It was cool to be let into that little section of the art scene. I don't know much about photography, but I like to hear people
talk about their work even if I don't understand everything. It is always exhilarating for me to be around people who are passionate about what they are doing. It's a refreshing respite from the other type. I wanted to go inside of his camera. He has a massive camera that has a trap-door. I am going to start going to other types of talks and readings. I need to. A man does not live on poetry alone, after all.

The ladies of Article Journal, Kim and Daria, are completely splendid, and the gallery was filled with visive art that impressed all. Eleanor Harwood was super nice and stunning. I wish that I could thank everyone so I will: THANKS EVERYONE!

Tomorrow night, Xantippe release is happening at Pegasus. I will be there. I hope that you will be there, too. Four readers! How will they do it?

It's been windy. Reminds me of change. And leaving. And the Call of the Wild.