Well, that didn’t take long. One dark rant about the spiritual perils of aging, and I was fine. Looked at that sucker two hours later and didn’t believe a word. I’m in a different place right now. Who knew, even bad art works. Now, if it had been good bad art, I would have left it. Even so, I must have better things to do.
One thing I did say earlier was that the hardest thing was self-acceptance. But how can you will something like that into being, especially if you don’t know what it is? Besides, it may have happened anyway. At the moment, I seem to be on some plateau, a land I’ve reached without knowing it was there, and now I’m trying to discover how the inhabitants spend their time. I think they do exactly what they want, the radical bastards!
Meanwhile, someone just invited me to go with him on a woodcutting trip on his own private mountain. I am not, as the saying goes, making this up, and I told him I was in… (Jesus, it must be working.)