Wednesday, August 15, 2012
I am in the midst of writing a memoir of my early years. I begin naturally, before I was born. My memory is a little hazy of those years but fortunately I have letters giving a pretty good account of everything that was happening only excluding what was happening with me. Was a cute baby or an ugly baby. I have a photograph of me when I was two years old. It appeared in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinal, and I was crying, apparently I had just fallen over. One big change from that time to now is I have a hard time crying. I seem too often to me to be too damn serious. My first words as a writer don't make much sense. mostly a wavy line. More later.