March experiment—day ten— I had to battle with my “inner wimp” this morning to run five miles at daybreak. With as mild as it is outside, that should not have been necessary, and as soon as I was out the mud-room door I was grateful for the upper hand. It was just the first in a string of today’s reminders to myself about why I’m conducting this odd exercise in the first place. I revisited my piece for New Mexico and took on an ambitious compositional addition, inviting the risk that I might spoil the whole thing. That’s the sort of thing I do in March, but I want to become bold enough to do it all the time without even thinking about it. Inner wimp be damned—you don’t know what untapped capability I have! The decision put me behind schedule again, but I refuse to fret. No profit in it. The Strocks stopped by for lunch, and I loaned one of my dumbbells to Marty. Today is the twenty-ninth anniversary of our first date, so I’m taking Dana to hear Dawn Osborn perform tonight at the new Woody’s in Danville.
Today’s sight bite— Dried paint and pencil marks on a flat surface—c-l-i-c-k—the illusion of a pear results from coordination of mind, eye, hand—and will.
Tomorrow— Spring forward an hour, share the silence, and embrace the checklist…