Bored at a slow work day I arrange some of the left-over wedding flowers in the lunch room. I set them inside a pitcher of water and then mop the floor. I do not think hard about flower arranging, but it looks fine to me, they’re beautiful enough, you can’t go too wrong. One might think that I’m building poems in my head while I do my duties, but most of the time I’m not thinking about very much. Mostly just daydream mundane thoughts, or just pay attention to the task and any small satisfaction I receive from it. The gleam of a clean counter top or opening a new garbage bag with that quick arm motion that forces air into it. I read on my break more often than write. Work-gloves that have my name on them. Someone left a David Sedaris book on a shelf that has now become an unofficial ‘free-book’ shelf and I’m reading that. While I was taking a “Writing for Children” class I would read a couple books a day from the Montessori classroom that is part of the building, but I’ve read most all of them now.
A class recently went to Grouse Mountain as a field trip and they put these up on the wall:
(I’ve been there once, and it was my favorite thing too)
Raoul Fernandes 