Road Trip Wreckage

This is what you people love to see in a Blog- sleep patterns minutely charted! It was a twelve hour round trip to an opening in a mental hospital, troche and two days later i am still TIRED. Anyhoo, no rx I sold a painting and who knows what else can happen? In the van we drank champagne and there was general rowdiness. After all the jokes about the opening being crawling with lunatics, ailment there were in fact several patients present. They were easy to spot because they were INSANE. One of them cornered me to congratulate me on maintaining a semblance of a productive existence, since it was “obvious” looking at my work that I, too, am a “deeply disturbed person”. I kid you not boys and girls.

Well, even though I am TIRED, I suppose I ought to get back to work in the studio today. After all, there is that facade of living to promote! I must maintain the porous barrier between my present state of being and a shuffling lithium induced stupor (staves off the ranting and construction of tinfoil armies of tiny soldiers). My routine is an eggshell-like veneer concealing emptiness which requires but the slightest pressure to be crushed into gritty shards.


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