So, here I am. Sitting in a frustrated and anxious puddle of me. I have no reason why at least non that I can relay with any sincerity. Physically, I have mostly recovered from the con ordeal. I don't mean that in any sort of negative way, it's just that after not really being "public" for so many years it was a bit difficult being "on" my game for such along stretch without pause that it internally wore holes in my body and soul.
I am one to take solace from the sky and rain and the fur of my dogs, from smelling the air at dawn and listening to inner silences for secrets. I love the whisper of my pencil over paper, the subtle silvery black line and it's possibilities that open secret windows of the soul. All artsy fartsy I know but don't slog it off as the meanderings of a hopeless romantic, I assure you it's all very practical and quite real. Art is not not made without passion, however quiet and strangely atavistic.
I suppose it is nothing more than a case of post con letdown. I desperately want to connect with the wonderful minds of the people i met there to bolster my seemingly wounded interior. Barron Story I met for the first time and found a far more kindred soul that I expected and I rejoiced in the meeting as it gave me strength continue when I was at low ebb. Meeting Melissa Auf Der Maur for a few precious minutes was like meeting a friend, old and dear from another life. I can't being to tell you the shock I felt in meeting someone I felt I had almost an intuitive knowledge of. I strangely miss them both.
Today, as I inhabit my so called "real" world, I am a shaman to whom the spirit world has been closed and the souls of beasts no longer speak to.
My dear Karen is away today, involved with other deeds and necessities. I miss her mightily. I never feel really comfortable without her nearby.
Melissa, Barron, I miss your company and sparks. I seem to have miss placed mine.
Good afternoon all......