Four nights at a writers conference, the next night at a Zen Center, the next back in the apartment, the next two out in Springs. Now off to Iowa City for the Nonfiction Now conference in the morning, which means that if I don't post these California pictures now, they'll never be seen again. Maybe the urge to get them out there--not just for me, but for you, too--is to frame time, is to say a person went somewhere. It wasn't just a blur or hours rushed through without attentiveness. I bet Virginia Woolf has something to say about such things in "A Sketch of the Past," in which she talks so beautifully about moments of being. I'd look for a quote right now if a suitcase weren't waiting to be filled, not to mention a young dog lying by the front door, waiting for his walk.