January 12, 2008 – Cold, clear. Every morning, now, after the border collies rocket off into the woods, Lenore waits for me, which is kind of sweet. The border collies are too busy, I think. Writing this morning, then off to the Adirondacks. Then back this afternoon. Writing about dogs and healing. Quiet. Nice. My friend Mary Kellogg scolded me yesterday for being frantic, trying to do much. She should talk, I said. You have to make a reservation a month in advance to even see her. I have been a bit frantic, it was my response to being uneasy, and I unleashed a wave of photos, writing, poems, hospice, teaching, other work and projects. It is just my way back, I told her. I will settle down.  While the creative energy flows, use it, I figure, whatever the cause. And I, for one, have never once doubted the connection between creativity and madness.