August, 10, 2004
Worked in office until two this afternoon. Scratched out a decent Milt Joyce for Classic Gunfights. Turned it over to Gus. RG is flying to a speech up north. I asked him how long the speech was going to be and he said 4,200 words. I laughed because he said it so precisely. It was obvious he had counted every word. I couldn’t tell you anywhere close to how many words are in my speeches. He then told me he has memorized the entire speech and has been practicing it for six months. Wow! He lives in a parallel universe from me, along with Dave Daiss who is driving in a different orbit.
Came home at 2:30 to meet the Sears delivery men. Yes, it’s taken this long to get our anniversary refrigerator, although they did give us another fridge to use until ours came in.
While I was waiting, I did a scratchboard of a Big Fifty Sharps rifle, and a dark and moody Wyatt Earp (gouache). Nice effects.
The delivery guys got here at four and loaded out the loaner to the breezeway (another company comes and gets that one) and installed the big silver job. I tipped them two magazines and then went back in the kitchen and loaded the new baby up with food and beer and discovered it won’t take our magnets on the front. Ha. I just bought a cool Day-of-the-Dead Posada woman at the Autry. Oh, well.
Got a speech at Denny’s over on I-17 and Bell Road in an hour. It’s for the Romance Writers of Arizona and it’s going to be 4,201 to 8,501 words long. I’d have it down tighter but I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to talk about yet.
“A writer—and, I believe, generally all persons—must think that whatever happens to them is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, misfortunes and embarrassments is given to us as raw material, clay, so that we may shape our art.”
—Jorge Luis Borges
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