20 June 0:29

The moon is coming out from behind wisps, and seems to have had a chunk bitten out of it. Or it is a sail at sea.

Marina life goes on. I returned from a long day of performing and socializing to find Randy, a political think-tanker with an in- progress restoration, DC-returned, chatting with local "mayor" Chris while their dogs rolled and jumped about. After an excellent trip from the City, complete with a full bike ride from the Angelika up to Union Square, and then back down Seventh avenue all the way to the PATH at World Trade Center, I gleefully made it down both ramps and careened into the marina. Headed for V.'s with the promise of a sail, I was waylaid for at least five minutes catching up with Randy, and Chris' slobbering dog; Krys and Joe entered the picture, and after fifteen I had finally made it to her place. After some time drinking tea with the ever-cheerful realist V., I attempted to make my way home, not before being co-opted by Dennis for ten. Two-thirds of the way back to my dock, I was stopped by new slip neighbors and their insistent, attention-seeking poodle Riley, which took me up to several frenetic hours of work calls and texts...it is inescapable, even here.

26 June 17:49

It's been several days and much has happened since Wednesday. The summer seems to be flying by, as summers tend to do, though the pace of life is gelatinous, the din of the City hushed. I might be shocked to find that I've been over three weeks on board, though so much has been going on that it seems only fair for Time to edge ahead in this round.

Wednesday dawned with a mild hangover. I found myself in a sort of daze, with the balm of friends in from out-of-town having kept me afloat this past week in a world of cafes, happy hours, afternoon movies and chatty friends, in between travel-related gymnastics for so many performances.

I keep expecting D. to ride into the marina from his boatyard hideaway, where he camped, working incessantly for several days preparing the trawler for a long journey upstate. His departure late Monday night has not quite registered. Our two-boat arrangement is unusual, yet has been practical—we do not get bored. The Carver's little woodsy cabin feels like the set of a 1970s romance; the Marine Trader's stateroom is beautifully lit and sweetly open to the sky, as if there were no roof. But now I am on my own here.