Where I’m At
The truth is, Huck, that I’ve been colordrunk and soaked with images; my house reeks of paint and glue and my fingers are stained with oil. I haven’t felt like writing about the world much, though there’s certainly a lot going on, what with Vladmir Putin getting the Next Great European War started and all. There is American politics but I would rather puke blood rather than think any more about Ted Cruz or Sarah Palin, and besides, I’ve also been trying to unplug myself from the ‘net as much as possible. Of course that sounds stupid as right now I am communicating to you through the ‘net, but I mean that I’m trying to only be online when I have a reason to be there as opposed to just mindlessly surfing for diversion. The problem with the ‘net is that with a billion voices competing to be heard most of them are just shrill screams for attention that will suck your life from you like a vampire (not one of the sparkly homosexual ones who drink bloody mary mix on HBO).
Julia and I get along great as friends and are doing a good job of keeping Little Tony the priority. I get to take him to and pick him up from preschool and spend some time with him every day when he comes home. For my trouble I get paid in toddler hugs, which are more valuable than I ever knew possible. I’ve been working on a large painting for a couple of weeks now. It’s triptych of the Crucifixion in oil on wood panels. Everyone who stops by likes it even if it makes them ask a lot of questions. I like questions.
Gotta run. The blog is alive as am I.
My unlimited love to y’all,
Pi Day, 2014