Hi. Anybody out there? Are you still with me? Am I writing into the ether? Well, aren’t we all. It’s hard to come to terms with the idea that there’s no one there. There might be. Who are we writing to? The ether is my friend. Embrace the fucking ether!
No, it is not my birthday. Believe it or not, after wrapping more than 250 pieces of art — that’s both mine and of my collection of others’ — and I have 49 left to go.
And at least I got myself back into the studio this week. I can’t believe it myself. I’m not even sure it counts yet. What that (“counts”) means exactly, I don’t even know! But getting back into a studio that’s really a garage isn’t a simple task. It’s work.
If you’ve been reading my writing blog, Shrapnel (for “short”), you’d know that I finished my book last week. Hell must have frozen over or something.
Here I am, back to life, back to the blogs, back to work — part of it anyway. I’ll be doing a lot of cross-posting the stuff I write here on my writing site, just because they correlate, so please excuse me if you’re reading some of this twice.