you forgot it in people

I have the feeling that if I could create work more similar to this on a more frequent basis, I would maybe start believing people when they tell me I'm creative.

you had me by the Bible, and you had me by the belt

Finished 2 paintings I've had kicking around, then painted 3 more. My hands and pants and arms are paint-splattered, and this feels good. Pictures may come later, possibly.

I actually don't have much to say. Kids are adorable as always, Ang had her baby (Molly, 6 lb 12 oz, has my hands and fingers. She sleeps and eats and that's about it. Adorable.)

Mental state is largely okstablegood, with intermittent bouts of not-ok. But I'm not staring at myself in the mirror and seeing nothing looking back at me, and I'm not scrawling on said mirror in some vain attempt to sort out my head, and I'm not leaving bloody handprints on said mirror when the inevitable happens. So I'm doing a far sight better than I was.

It turns out that asking onself "What difference will this make?" when in the grips of one's demons actually has some positive effects.

Charleston

Before the wedding, he taught her how to dance his surname.

it was real, and I repent

"and I know there's no such thing as ghosts, but I have seen the demon host"

I've gotten high twice between Saturday and today. I've participated in numerous jam sessions--knee slapping and feet stomping and singing are all about the most indie way to go. I worked on a birthday present. I busked with friends. I drew in my sketchbook instead of using Blades thedemonhost. Something about Timber Timbre and re-reading a poignant bit of conversation I had with Chris back in February has welled up tears in me that I didn't know I had.

"I dreamt you found me in a field. You tripped over my site, and you dug me out of this shallow grave with your Swiss Army knife." -- "Lay Down in the Tall Grass," Timber Timbre