Haven’t worked for about a week over a month or so and maybe longer than that, in the proper way, I mean, with intention, writing yes but no not painting not the real stuff the stuff that matters and from which I endlessly run, procrastinate, redirect, inventing or rather asking the universe for filler tasks because I am terrified to get back on the bike and somehow Joan Mitchell is breaking my heart again, the fact of her, on top of which the displaced worry as to whether I have a heart worth breaking at all and when will it be for real though, falling in the rink Little Women style, with some non-imaginal non-lecherous authentic party. The Crown is coming up again so is Kimmy Schmidt and the Kino cigarettes song not yet feeling torturous but almost.
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