Yesterday

Yesterday was good. It was my fifth sobriety anniversary and also the launch date of R2, the Rice Review. At the launch, I found out that my story "El Santo" had won second place in the Williams Prize in Fiction, a $250 prize. I plan to spend all or most of the prize money on gold jewelry. I wasn't counting on the money, so I feel it's wisest to spend it frivolously. Any other use of the prize money would encourage me to factor future possible prize money into my budget. Of course, I realize that I'm still stuck in a superstitious, magical way of thinking. I don't care. It's not my job to be rational. My first purchase will, of course, be a Texas necklace bought from Fiesta.

I dreamed last night that I'd gone on a trip to Japan. And it was everything I'd hoped it would be. It all lay before me. All that was left to do was to move to Japan.

I recently viewed The Story of Floating Weeds(1934) by Yasujiro Ozu. The camera dwelt upon still objects between shots of actors. It was transcendent. You can see echoes of this technique in Bresson and Herzog.