Clarity Through the Dead Trees
The air is much cooler now. It's getting the way of my usual wake up, drink coffee and smoke cigarettes outside while fuckering around on my computer routine.
There is a dead blue jay on my little walk way. It appeared on Thanksgiving morning. Looks like it died of natural causes. Jen and I were trying to figure out what to do with it. The ground is frozen, so burying it probably isn't the best, nor easiest, idea. And a funeral pyre is out of the question with all the dry as fuck brush down here.
It's been a long few weeks of work and writing and life and parking lot conversations. Last night was the first good nights sleep I've had for something like the last two weeks. I'm struggling to actually wake up.
An interesting quote crossed my path the other day. "When bankers get together, they talk about art. When artists get together, they talk about money." I believe Oscar Wylde said that. Seems to ring true enough for me.
A rather bland entry. But my fingers are fucking frozen, and I'm barely able to keep both eyes open. If the spark in my fingers from last night hasn't diminished, the script for the first part of The Gestation Period should be done by the end of the day.
Now I need food.
-A
There is a dead blue jay on my little walk way. It appeared on Thanksgiving morning. Looks like it died of natural causes. Jen and I were trying to figure out what to do with it. The ground is frozen, so burying it probably isn't the best, nor easiest, idea. And a funeral pyre is out of the question with all the dry as fuck brush down here.
It's been a long few weeks of work and writing and life and parking lot conversations. Last night was the first good nights sleep I've had for something like the last two weeks. I'm struggling to actually wake up.
An interesting quote crossed my path the other day. "When bankers get together, they talk about art. When artists get together, they talk about money." I believe Oscar Wylde said that. Seems to ring true enough for me.
A rather bland entry. But my fingers are fucking frozen, and I'm barely able to keep both eyes open. If the spark in my fingers from last night hasn't diminished, the script for the first part of The Gestation Period should be done by the end of the day.
Now I need food.
-A