Crisis of Expression

Christmas Apathy. My ho-ho-holly[day] contribution . While I draw the line at becoming a “People of Wal-Mart” icon; I do  become intensely anti-social and it takes a crowbar and a Snickerdoodle to pry me out of my pj’s so I’ll leave the house. Since I’ve gone on a cooking strike this year, there is no baking. Big cold cup of apathy– no Snickerdoodles to be had. The odds of my leaving the house have now gone down by 90%. The pool boy claims he hasn’t seen the crowbar.

There’s the whole crisis of expression thing too. I have 2500 words of short story so far.  That short story is a good excuse not to talk to certain people at the moment (HAUNK!). Some needy people need to give me a break! It’s Christmas already! Go do something, I don’t know… Christmas-y?

I’ve also done 7 digital sketches, looked at 3 different canvases and had my hands on just about every artistic medium in the house (you don’t even want to know…) and I think I’m ready for a slug of bourbon now. Or 4.  Maybe then I would take up a knife and my fingers and smear paint on thick like I’ve been itching to lately instead of just bitching about it.

Can’t leave out the music either. What’s one more expression amongst friends right? What a killer too. I’m not going down easy here. Mozart, Bach, Blues, Gospel… I’m drowning in some electric cello that has me hanging my head and wondering…? I shut music out, down– just background noise consignment (HAUNK!). Bah! This one just goes beyond the pale.

Now it’s about climbing to the top of the mountain and standing there, head thrown back , the wind blowing and just starting to spin.

Spin. Stop. And go.


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