Do yourself a favor and go back to 1981 with Dire Straits while you commune with me.
Toro, toro taxi, she says, see you tomorrow, my son.
she laughed and let a big truck
grease her hip.
Today, I Standardized. Boxed. Framed. Worked on masters. Found the hiding little glitch in the two masters for Helix and Triangles that were kicking my shiz out of line when I wasn’t looking. Felt HUGE about that. Things are looking very clean.
Today I spent a blissful hour looking at my page of Available Quotes, matching ideas up with beadwork. Of course I may be shot down by any one of ten people on them, with the person who beaded the piece having the deciding vote in any count, but… that is as it should be. I don’t want that kind of power. I don’t want any power, actually, just magic. Mistaking power for magic or magic for power is a very bad mistake indeed.
I love my Edit Team, I love them so hard it hurts. In fact, it hurts a lot. My right hand is feeling terrible. Thankfully I see Larry tomorrow, and Carlisle too if I am very very lucky. Acupuncture and massage.
I am at a point now with this work where I have gone wild; like a wolf might take to the steppes so have I left behind any difficulty. I’ve reached a sort of vision state where things are quite stark; things are beautiful or they are not.
They are clear or they are not.
This is a very unclever time to approach me with disagreeable intentions, as every single thing that I have ever been or will ever be is gathered together in a tight little moment of now; I am like… I can’t think of what. I am reminded of the moment in graphics when you are dragging an image from left-facing to right facing, say, and it passes through a singularity where everything the image is and could be expresses in a single point. What would be the opposite of a black hole? Some sort of lens, perhaps, something productive and not destructive. But I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of negativity brought to my point in time and space.
When people say angels are cruel, or ruthless, I think it’s a failure of words.
It might be more accurate to say that you taste what you bring.
I am frequently disappointed in love, because love is my only agenda. If only I wanted diamonds, or Facebook “likes”, I’d be in clover. It’s strange for people when they realize that all I want from our relationship is to be faithful, and not be bad friends. There is literally nothing else on my one-on-one agenda.
Is this really that unusual?