The house is a mess, weeds have taken over the flower bed, I have not cooked a thing in days (this is a good thing!), folded clean laundry stacked, but not put away and it does not bother me one bit!
I have nasty methylcellulose (from the wet layered papers) stuck in places on my body it should never be, and a cloud of chalk dust that follows me around like Pig-Pen in the Charley Brown comic strips.
Between paper layers drying, I’ve sung and danced (badly) to The Beatles, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Van Morrison, Led Zeppelin, Chicago , etc. as it blasts through the house (surprised the neighbors have not complained…yet)
The studio smells like an industrial “haz-mat” area from all of the spray fixative
I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs to all of my doubt and fear.
“Look out world…...SHEEEEEEEES BACK!”
There is NO drug in this world that could give this life back to me!
I had to figure it out alone...It had to be me...It is me!