"Brakes on, brakes on..." (314)
Mostly sunny today. Hot. I've been awake since 3:30 a.m. Our high was 92F.
I tried to begin the new story this morning. I came up with a good title. I wrote several paragraphs, and then I realized just how tricky it would be, and how much worldbuiling would be involved, and...I stopped. I will try to go back to The Night Watchers this week, instead. Tomorrow, I have work on pterosaur bones to do, but day after tomorrow...writing. Likely, Kathryn and I need to read back iver the many pages that have been written so far, before I get back into it.
How can I sink deeper into nothing? I am, but the how escapes me. Is it a matter of moving farther from something? I might be amazed at the hollowness, were I seeing it from the outside.
“It is always best to look facts squarely in the face, without blinking them, and to remember that, as has been well said, in the long run even the most uncomfortable truth is a safer companion than the pleasantest falsehood.” ~ Theodore Roosevelt, 1894
Fuckin' A, Teddy. Bully.
“I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.”
~ William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors, Act 1, Scene 2
Once you see that the already loathsome word "artisinal" breaks down, hilariously, into "art is anal," you can never unsee that.
Please have a look at the Dreaming Squid shop. Thank you. And ALSO at Kathryn's Amazon wishlist. Her birthday is impending, and she keeps me alive.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast (Who May No Longer Have a Right Name)
9:48 a.m.
I tried to begin the new story this morning. I came up with a good title. I wrote several paragraphs, and then I realized just how tricky it would be, and how much worldbuiling would be involved, and...I stopped. I will try to go back to The Night Watchers this week, instead. Tomorrow, I have work on pterosaur bones to do, but day after tomorrow...writing. Likely, Kathryn and I need to read back iver the many pages that have been written so far, before I get back into it.
How can I sink deeper into nothing? I am, but the how escapes me. Is it a matter of moving farther from something? I might be amazed at the hollowness, were I seeing it from the outside.
“It is always best to look facts squarely in the face, without blinking them, and to remember that, as has been well said, in the long run even the most uncomfortable truth is a safer companion than the pleasantest falsehood.” ~ Theodore Roosevelt, 1894
Fuckin' A, Teddy. Bully.
“I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.”
~ William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors, Act 1, Scene 2
Once you see that the already loathsome word "artisinal" breaks down, hilariously, into "art is anal," you can never unsee that.
Please have a look at the Dreaming Squid shop. Thank you. And ALSO at Kathryn's Amazon wishlist. Her birthday is impending, and she keeps me alive.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast (Who May No Longer Have a Right Name)
9:48 a.m.