I love New York, but

I’m really happy to be home. It’s even hot here but not swamply like the big apple.
My trip was great, really invigorating. Even got two small shreds of writing (posted over at Infinite Work with the dates and times close approximations of when they were written) out of the trip, as well as a lot of great meals and get-togethers with old and new friends (and family), including my mom and dad, one of my brothers, his wife, and his 11-month-old boys, a java programmer who was a painter when we first met, a telecom dude who’s also a poet, a writer and journalist who used to work on Wall St., the web designer who maintains my server and has a famous music collection, two writers who run a literary web site, a writer with big ideas about ontologies and data structures and storytelling, and the editor of an amazing art magazine who plans to finish his dissertation some day.
I missed seeing another up-and-coming writer by just a hair, but I’ll try to catch him next time.
Mixed in with those were college friends and roommates, antiwebbers from the early days of creative experimentation on the web, Dead Heads, and some younger writers who are so talented it sometimes scares me.
Now, all I have to do is finish this book and that seminar and I can take it easy the rest of the summer, trying to figure out new ways to stay cool.


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