I'm not sure why I'm still here, and on Twitter. (Actually, I do — it's habits.) Rapidly this week I feel I should hang my words on the line this week, maybe to dry them or maybe to rest them. It is so bad I cannot even think about adding to my slipbox, which is a big red flag.
Though on the other hand I feel a craving to do something physical. I'm due for a haircut soon. Maybe some self-portraits are in order. But I'm not counting on that.
I've finished Clods, but I don't quite feel it's ready yet. I suspect I will have to make a final draft from this one. Jean could use more fire.