Dense

I’m not sure what to write about. Again. I’m not feeling all that shiny this morning. I find cynicism tugging my mood in the wrong direction. Thank you for your patience while I ride out this funk.

I have everything I need for the art show. I’m eagerly awaiting to hear which pictures they’d like to have in the gallery portion of the show. I gave them six to choose from. My usual A-team with a couple of newer attempts, you know, to test the waters. Sometimes to test the piece.

My want to stay away from alcoholic beverages was undone last night. All of three days away. I’m kinda bummed and I’m kinda not. I’m still eating well. That’s my consolation prize. That and I very much enjoy having a beverage to nip on while I wind down from work. Chocolate milk is nice, but I missed wine.

I think more and more often about doing less blog posts. Everyday is nice and cute and it does keep my writing skills in a pretty good way. My heart, though . . . I’m not burnt, at least I don’t think I am. But I worry that I spend all my time being narcissistic and redundant. I could change this to be more topical or opinionated but that’s not what I or you are here for. We’re here for the art. Becoming a pundit or a douche or blowhard doesn’t interest me so much. I just wanna make art. Stay productive and keep my eye on the prize . . . sigh

Ok, enough venting. Thanks for hanging.

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