Carlos, in a red shirt with the yellow and black “Waffle House” logo and plaid shorts, is typing. We are sitting at our kitchen table. It’s just cool enough today (warm, but not hot) to have the windows open and the fan on, after weeks of air conditioning.
I never had air conditioning in all the places I’ve lived as an adult. I got by, sometimes very stickily. So I’m grateful now. But ours is so loud, window units, difficult to regulate. It’s good to have a break.
We both have our computers open. He’s going over my edits to Draft Two of our screenplay: ReEntry.
Mir is in her room–her “womb,” as she calls it–which used to be my office. We have made a nook for her out of bookshelves. There is a bed and a desk. She has lit it with fairy lights, and the touch-glow realistic moon my father gave me. We went for a long walk first thing this morning to meet Xime in a park–my first (masked) (social distanced) visit with a not-Mir New York friend. She applied for a film director position today, and I am so proud of her.
I spent an hour reading Nellie Bly’s exposé about Blackwell’s Asylum on Roosevelt Island, and took a brief nap. Now, I’m caffeinated up, with Eclipse Polar Ice gum (for me) and Sour Cherry Drops (for Carlos) and an afternoon of collaboration.
I’ve borrowed the term “BIG SCREENPLAY ENERGY” from my friend, whose new “BIG BOOK ENERGY” philosophy this year has lifted her from many a doldrums and into remarkable drive and success. Also, I have always been marvelously attracted to ALL CAPS SENTIMENTS.
Both of our computers are opened. Carlos and I are sharing our screenplay documents between us on Dropbox. The ludic flow state is what I’m after; Carlos is a natural at it.
“Were you happy when you painted these, Miss Eyre?”
“I was not unhappy. I was wholly absorbed.”
(A probable misquote, and from one of the movie adaptations, not the book. But still. One of my favorite bits. And what I always think of when we speak of “flow state”)
And so, I wait for my turn. For the next scene. The next movement. I bless this moment.
If this waiting goes on much longer, I shall fetch my Nellie Bly. It’s research for my next Dark Breakers novella–or I hope it shall be–“Salissay’s Laundries.” Wouldn’t it be grand to be even more productive in the lacunae between active participation?