There are these two oil paintings I really need to finish. Languishing on my easel far, far too long. After a while, fear sets in: What if I ruin it? What if I've forgotten how to do this ( Read more... )

Even though it was late, and the sun was down.

Even though I didn't much feel like "exercising" and wasn't in the right clothes.

Even though I've got a thousand need-to-do-things nibbling away at me like minnows on a bread crust.

Actually, largely because of those thousand nibbling thoughts and necessities. "Screw it," I said. Grabbed the iPod and out ( Read more... )

This is on my mind a lot as I read the reactions of internet strangers to Amy Winehouse's death. Not many of us are really surprised; some are sad; a few are crass enough to state that she "deserved it," and many more are both sad and a little disgusted. One friend of mine said that Winehouse made her addiction her "creative hook" and "reveled in ( Read more... )