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today

Today, it is snowing outside and I am painting in the dungeon.

Frida is in the corner, taking shots of Tequila and shouting Spanish swears and laughing. I never know what I am doing here and I doubt myself always. Who looks at paintings anymore when there is so much more to be done. Who reads novels or walks dogs or talks to their children or makes love. Who breathes in and out. We have hand-held devices for all of it now. No sense in getting our fingernails dirty.

I saw a funhouse mirror black and white portrait of Lisa yesterday. I miss her despite myself. I hated every minute of her passive aggressive shreddings of my ego but I loved her for at least being a challenge.

She is off in the desert somewhere now making beehives in church pews. It seems such a lonely thing to do.

But so does life -

3:36 p.m. - 2007-09-29
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