Artist / Prose / Writer

Computer is not man’s best friend, for today it was a royal pain in my ***. It coughed, it wheezed, it sputtered, it froze, and then it stopped. Hours later I conjured it enough, coaxed it enough, to have it come back from being a spoiled child, and cooperate with me. Whenever this devil grabs hold of the inners of my computer, I hand write, the old fashion way, manually putting thought to paper. Yes, then I have to transcribe it all to the computer in the end. So, yes, the computer does in fact, always win this battle of wits with me. It really is rather exhausting an effort.

An artist of prose, I create with words, isn't that what a writer is? Having an inordinate amount of time on his hands today, the woodpecker now leads two others in the pecking of my windowsill. "How’s the blog coming along? " they ask in unison, as they pause from the drilling of their exasperating beaks into the rot of my windowsill.  "Need to have 4 million followers at least, in order for it not to be a failure”, the boastful arrogant one bellows out from beneath his breathe. 

My blog is about my life, so is it possible that if your blog fails, then your life has failed? 

Peering into the abyss, welcoming its peer back at me. Still waiting on my answer.......