chicago, writing

this morning

I am editing the narratives of two artists into those “artist’s statement” items for a grant. I got to talk on the phone to each of them, which was nice. One, rehearsing in Minneapolis, had just returned from getting lost on a morning jog in ten-degree weather.

It would be inaccurate to say that snow is “falling” today, because from my second-story window, it looks more like it’s rising. Or, knocking at the door.

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