Paul Sharits (1943-1993)

Morning: lat score reached sunset-now to conclude it with Night and Dawn. The PORT sickens me with its pretensions, preachings. Late return to nearby café, guitars and laughter join Lillian (whore poetry must be most interesting) and the writers. They give me wine and food and we go on after café closes. Old “Jim,” who seems to only speak Greek plays and sings and I like it best—maybe because he appears so much like Picasso (a comparison Lillian disapproves of for some reason). Lillian, in bikini, doesn’t look very old—and I want to make love with her—but she has to spend the night on her disheveled porch-garden (wonderful image of grape vines, cacti, flower plants and et al—nearly crumbling, like her house) to try to catch some beast which has been eating her vines and ruining the garden. My room is small and not elegant in the least: perfect! But may have to leave soon as a party of Germans have rented whole villa—just a matter of time until they arrive. They sound like a pretty awful bunch. Lillian brings me breakfast; like one of her family—I realize she appreciates my work—today perhaps her husband will come and we may meet to discuss math systems and art (a computer programmer in Athens). Today, a swim before working. The book Lillian has loaned me Monet at Giverny is extremely inspiring…I also love water, need to be near bodies of water (childhood fly fishing in my Rockies—excuse to wade streams all day, feeling out currents and listening to water music).

Must, like Monet in his pre-famous years, overcame fears, obstacles, and misfortune. The nagging anxiety of the “grand larceny” trial which awaits me upon my return to Buffalo is, for the moment transcended and I can work.

Section A unit 1 finished. Unit B is the light of Hydra: white laps into blue, flickers of brilliant colors/ mainly white articulations. One might ask: what does this have to do with Jefferson? Well, I can’t spell it out (L-I-B-E-R--)

Thorns in hand, falling into cacti cluster in Mykonos, almost gone hurts still some infection making writing and doing scores difficult.

Each day Lillian looks younger—obvious she was extraordinarily beautiful when truly young. Eyes and mouth delights. Fed me with her nice husband, and gave me some glass. Fantastic muse!