Personal Journal

5/29/18
I signed on organ donation and had it put on my file. I'm not signing no "do not resuscitate". :) These people will let you go just to free up your bed for the next soul.

I've been sick for like three or four days—a cold or flu, or something. I couldn't do anything, not paint, not write, not even read. My nose was running so much that tissues became an issue. :) Feel better today. Hope to get something done. Looking forward to going outside.

August 22, 1963: best day of my life.♥

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5/30/18
I guess I'm not going outside—not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow, not the rest of the week. They had a riot on A-yard last week so all guards are going over there to search. They do one cell block a day. There are five cell blocks. :)

I hope to make good use of the time. Got me a painting going yesterday. Started reading the Texas Monthly. It has been in my locker for two weeks, and I'm doing a crossword puzzle in the San Quentin News. I'm trying to keep my mind active.

A lot of older prisoners suffer from dementia. What I tell people when I forget something or forget someone's name is, "Hey, I'm old and I have a lot of knowledge from many years of learning. Sometimes things get lost in my brain." :) What I can remember are things from my youth. Those I remember the way I want to remember.

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6/1/18
A new day, a new month. The weather is warmer, the rains behind us. I'm trying to cross back over old bridges. Most of them have a lot of damage.

This lockdown has only been for a few days, and they have a ways to go. It seems like forever. I do enjoy my walks. Sometimes I talk to people, sometimes I just get lost. This is just a hint of what's to come.

I stopped for only a moment to rest my hands. Lost my train of thought. The sun is high in the sky now. What was I saying? What do I want to say?

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6/3/18
I can remember the house I lived in on Stockton B.P. when I was in kindergarten (4-5 years old). I remember my grandma's house and my Aunt Truce's house. This was 1950=1951.

I remember waking up one afternoon. I was asleep on the couch or bed on the back porch. It was hot, I was sweating. I walked up the driveway to my grandpa's house. My Uncle Rubin was there. He made me a sandwich and something cold to drink. I think he was 14 then. The cops come to the front door, and I went out the back door or window, across the field to Aunt Truce's. I don't remember what the cops were there for or what happened, but I'm been afraid and running from the cops ever since. :(

Still on lockdown this morning. Jimmy gets up and goes to breakfast. Then he comes back and sleeps all day. I can't do that.

I picked up a college book The Humanities Through the Arts. I thumbed through it yesterday from painting to literature (poetry), theater, music, to television and video art. Today I will begin reading it.

I did paint some, but my fingers locked up after about 30 minutes. It took me a while just to clean the brushes.

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6/5/18
It's early summer and the weather has already turned hot. It has been hot enough the last few days that they're letting the AC sections keep their doors open in the evening. And we're still on lockdown. :) The cell I moved to a few months ago is cool. Little Jimmy rarely even has to have his fan on. Me, I keep mine on 24/7, even in the dead of winter. I need the air circulation. :)

Someone just came by and said we're off lockdown this morning. :)

Reading from The Humanities Through the Arts. Humanities covers a broad area of human creativity, such as philosophy, history, social science, art, poetry, and literature. All the fun stuff most of us enjoy. There are paintings in the book such as Da Vinci's Mona Lisa. I know he had a five year affair with her.

Jimmy just got up. He wants to remind me that he has less than 100 days left. 96 days. :)

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6/6/18
I look at Edward Hopper's Early Sunday Morning, and I want to reproduce it. I know I can't, I don't know the streets. I don't know the buildings. In my mind's eye, I can still see busy buildings I want to paint. Memories.

Here, early in the morning, locked behind doors, I have no real worries. Most of my days are spent daydreaming. I really need to get something done. A little painting, write a poem.

I read Gabriel Okara's Piano and Dreams yesterday.
When at break of day at riverside
I have jungle drums telegraphing

It could have been one of mine except I've never been to Africa nor have I ever been up close to a panther or leopard. Life is good today and I'm getting to hold you in my arms.