Real life, defined with a brush whose bristles are constantly changing, stiff or supple, short or longe, horsehair or steel-toothed, and the colors of the paint are not always colors but shades of grey...
This blog seems to be at an end. More like I want to start a new beginning, so I will elsewhere, as I have often done.
I miss certainty that I never knew I had, and I miss people I never knew I would lose. Such is the illusion of impermanence, one illusion I keep hoping not to be permanent ubiquitously.
I cannot control it, I cannot change it, I cannot make it anything more then what it is. I cannot do anything aside from throw sadness, madness, temper tantrums and too-small and weak fists at it's steel-reinforced concrete, breaking my knuckles and my hopes for some semblance of control--yet I still crave it, this reliable permanence, this predictable human temperament, wishing for Eden to be realer than the fairy tale it is.
...
I will write of the rest of my 2009 adventures here, but starting with my January dip in the Beverly Beach (Newport, Oregon) ocean with Allosaurus and the dogs Annie and Bella I will use a new blog, a link to which I will post.
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