January 2, 1986

9:15 am

Burn victims on Donahue this morning. I think I could be spending this time more productively. So now what? I've already had one cigarette and that is one to many for the morning. It makes me feel like a slag heap.

After I have some herbal tea I'll do my exercises, take a shower then go to the bank (and also pick up some milk).

Filling T's book up with images -- SANDPIT, a place when I was a boy where we hid things and went to play. A dangerous place (we didn't tell our mothers) that is now a trailer park.

Reading Yeats' "A Vision" where a character, Michael Robartes, acts as Yeats' "guide" through the vision. I kept thinking that I was misreading it, kept getting lost but I'm getting into the flow of it...May just be bad editing.

About SANDPIT -- what do I know of it now? As I said SANDPIT is a dangerous place where I went to play, to hide myself and things. What things? Old Playboys stolen from my friend Leon's father's workroom (his mother had MS or something like that, his father had a vast library of porno). So I'm going back to puberty, a kind of transformation. It will be a diptych, a before and after? a reflection on itself? a doubling back?

It's not "myself" I'm dealing with in particular. But in a way it is, that

historical "self."