For the first time allergies have hit me and the last few nights have been restless. Sometimes I woke up at 2:30 am and stayed up the rest of the morning. I went to the doctor yesterday for a long overdue diabetic report of my long term sugar level and it was high to 7.4. Today I will start back jogging. I had cereal and coffee for breakfast. The window theater opened my heart and spirit this morning to see some of Mother Earth. Soon the mother turkeys will be bringing their turkey chicks down the turkey trail to the feeding grounds. I ponder do the wild turkeys grow as fast as the goslings? I jogged today and denied myself a soup which turns into sugar and is bad for my diabetes. I have been eating soups every day. The prison food is horrible and a top of ramen noodles with a pouch of sardines or mackerel is exquisite in comparison.
Sad days in the art room. Three weeks ago Marco, our art room clerk, rock'n roller and equipment man transferred, which only leaves Ken, the blues man, Marty, the man of man of many talents and myself as teaching artists. Marty ran the visual arts, music theory classes and was also featured in Michel Wenzer's film At Night I Fly. He was a main stay in all the art room bands. There was a lot of other little things Marty did to keep the art room running, flowing and real. The last day Marty was here we played the One Soul CD. We did Mother's day cards and felt our one soul.
I remember whenever outside guests came inside the art room, Jim Carlson, our brother in the arts and old AIC boss, would have Marty play his guitar and sing his original songs and I would do my poetry readings. Most often the visiting guest artists and other people from the outside world would get hooked on our art programs and come back again and again.
Now there is only art room boss Kari and my co-worker artist Ken left in the art room. Soon Ken will be gone too, and I will also. We will all be scattered on different beaches. Marty will be around here a little longer, but on another yard. I'll be down at Lancaster (LAC) teaching. Perhaps One Soul will see Marty again. I hope I'll get letters from One Soul once I'm gone from New Folsom. If not, stay real One Soul.