Being part of the computer generation has made me a horribly lazy writer! Rather than enjoy the hand spun fun that drifts from the soul onto paper...I've tapped, rattled and endlessly edited my life and style straight into an addiction to perfectionism. That's why this time had to be different! In the early part of October 2012 I spent my midmornings studying the curves and unexpected twists caused by my writing. I took note of the depth of distance while escorting the edges of my imagination to a better relationship with this creative self that never seems to stop being so easily damaged. I found pleasure in the presentation of penned out and penciled works set free in 1977 and 1994. This photo shows my current book Scrambled Eggs being lifted from all that's inside onto a stage called paper. How it's getting there is the lost art. My choice to dance with it seems like more work than society allows but in the end there'll be music carried to a reader that feels the way I do about thinking...what if I put it on a page? Might it become an egg? What then?
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