6:00: Workout.
6:45: Roust family, tease each, walk dogs, read paper. Talk with kids before school, caress wife. Kisses, out door. Protein shake while driving. Leave cell phone off.
7:30: Meet with major contractor to convince them to bring us projects. Earn trust.
8:30: View corporate collection of a prospective client, discuss enhancing. Earn trust.
9:30–12:00: Cappuccino. Play Vaughan Williams on stereo. This is normally when I write for a couple of hours, but I’m not on a book now. So: Answer emails, activate cell and return calls, congratulate a regional publisher on his NY Times article, discuss a story with a Kansas City Star writer to which he commits, discuss a story with a Rocky Mountain Times writer to which she commits, discuss a story with LA Times writer to which she maybe commits, make appointment for a sculpture consultation, follow-up with a client who is late in paying, make lunch appointment with architect for next week, check travel itinerary for Colorado leg of book tour, call old friend in KY and trade stories.
12:00-12:30: Salad and grilled chicken while reading At Dawn We Slept. No calls.
12:30-1:30: Conference with new saleswoman, help her establish goals, set agenda, timeline. Interrupt to go on floor and answer questions from a serious collector about Regier sculpture; note the look in her eyes as she considers acquisition; make mental note to call her end of week.
1:30-2:30: Work with assistant Sharon, begin formulating approach for two civic commissions and one corporate commission. Accept request to give a speech to a group of art teachers. Ask former assistant, Erin, where the devil is the digital file on Trailhead Tower? No one knows. Will find it tomorrow. Presentation next week. Check on Tombaugh sculpture for Legends project; almost done; Matt Kirby sculptor. Prepare letter of agreement on blown-glass chandelier. Check on three large paintings that were commissioned last month; Phil Epp painter.
2:30–4:00: Meet with county commissioner to discuss civic commissions. Swap stories about our disparate upbringings. Get her take on a few upcoming projects. Earn trust. Silently consider chastising a local mayor for lying about a different commission; think about how Truman always let his angry letters cool before sending them, then never sent them; decide to write letter but not chastise; it’s her karma, let her live it.
4:00–6:00: Finish preparing presentations for civic commissions. Confirm meetings for tomorrow. Check Amazon rank on Living the Artist’s Life: 8,000 out of 2,000,000. Not bad.
6:30: Home. Jog quick mile in park while letting mind go blank. Dinner. Wife. Kids. Stories. Laughter. Sit on patio steps with wife, talking about nothing, holding hands, stroking her ribs. I think how I don’t see her enough these days, or help with chores enough (though I did clean the upstairs john this past weekend and vacuumed). Remind her how beautiful and special she is. Dig on exquisite fall evening together, hush of nightfall. Dogs pester us for attention.
8:30: Back to gallery, hating to return, making hardware run on the way for lightbulbs. Catch up on paperwork. Old friend, Johnny Butler, drops by. Trade stories and laughter. To hell with paperwork.
10:00: Back home, swearing I will not work late tomorrow night, but knowing I probably will, and that it will get worse as the books succeed. But only to a point. Better than failure though. Popsicle. Watch a slice of Lord of the Rings with sons, slaying several Orcs in process. Talk about anything, which to them is mostly chicks.
11:00: Bed, read Smithsonian ’til nodding out.