Stories
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Upon getting evicted and moving to Potrero Hill, I thought I would have nothing toi do without my workshop as a fall back, and so immediately I asked my son Guy to teach me how to use a computer. He gave me his old. It was pretty funky, primitive and didn't do much, but I could write on it. I learned what it meant when they said word-processor. It was fantastic. I had been writing on paper with roller ball ink-pens for perhaps six years. I did analysis and single paragraph concepts individually to stand on their own. I had started to put my paragraph concepts in various orders to comprise dissertations.
However I couldn't line them up, one concept following another because if the order was wrong I would have to cut out paragraphs with a sissors and paste them on secondary sheets in order to change the order of concept sucession. On the computer I could highlight paragraphs with a draw of the mouse, copy or cut and move or paste them
where ever I wanted. It was amazing and so now suddenly I could write, and the fact is that without the computer I could never have written anything except single concepts and pages.
I wrote - starting at about eight every morning until usually three. I went for walks in the afternoon on Bernal hill, sometimes with Sophia, though we had split-up. I copy-wrote concepts that I already had written on paper.
I don't know why I put the computer in the next room which was two steps down,
on the left side of the house followed by the bath and living room front with hooded views through trees and folliage across the city low Mission.
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