I like to be at the edge of things.

I like to have the music, the not really very important, but soothing, music only loud enough and close enough to comfort me with the fact of its presence, and not with its content

I like to be off at the edge of the group, dreamily listening in, but really with and by myself. I like knowing I am not one of them; I like looking at or at least listening in and out at them, and not having to be faithful in my attention, and certainly not response-able.

I love to putter and ponder. No answers expected, no output necessarily forthcoming. Keenly aware of the experience and the process and only amused by the inconsequentiality of it all.

1:11 p.m., October 3, 1994