Random Fragments

Man enjoying cigar. I was enjoying a vegetable juice.

The inner paranoia finds its way into  the margins when I'm not looking.

Thoughts of a Octo-Character and an Octo-Toy.  

The flow of life is rushing, rushing, rushing forward.  I want to stop, but I'm in the middle of the pulling, pounding, turbulence.  These are some fragments of the journey.  

if-Kernel

Kernels of thought grow in the mind. 

Tuesday

The ghosts orange of October haunt me inside and out. There is so much to keep up with. I want to hide under the covers and just sleep. But the outside world calls with it demands, I answer for I know that not doing so brings pain. Awake.

Today To Do's

This foggy morning blankets the inward directed thoughts. To linger in this slowly drifting, floating mental state a little longer would be oh so nice. I’ve already wrote today’s to do list. The to do’s magnetic pull is tugging my mind in their direction. Are they a lighthouse guiding the journey from the siren song of pleasurable disaster? Or just the fence that keeps life in check in the artificial safety of self imposed normalcy? For myself I need both the fog and the map.

In the Margins

In the margins of daily life bits and pieces of unplanned thought bubbles up from the stew of the mind, travel down my arm into my hand and through the pen I’m holding onto any nearby piece of paper. There is a certain pureness, directness to this. Now how to elaborate on these by keeping the directness while clarifying form and intent without the gatekeeper of tidiness (one of those personas of my mind) stuffing the life out of the drawings? Being in the moment with the work seems to help, but I have no magic potion answer for this.