My inner sense of my “work” and calling it Art has always been slightly jaded, skeptical.  The only way I can wrap my head around it it to suggest (or trick myself?) I am living sort of a humorous life-style. I try to see humor everywhere, anywhere, because there is so much at which to shake our collective heads. *collective heads?~ We need to laugh as much as anything these days. I also know that I am neither a scientist, engineer, agricultural innovator–those positions that might actually help the world at large in major ways. I’m wired to make snarky & stupid observations which sometimes get a laugh.

The mystery of the four letter word “Work*” (*Horrors!) So I have been living the Empty Nest life & preparing my house for sale. It’s not killer work, but if I’d seen a list beforehand of what I’ve already gotten done, I might have punted & quit long ago. Some of this work is even pleasant. Tranforming rooms, gardens, de-cluttering rooms has a certain amount of Wow! factor to it. Donating old clothes, books, DVDs & CDs takes time. Sorting thru old photos is one easy way to get side-tracked. The whole process involves getting side-tracked constantly. It’s not melancholy even a third of the time, but it is kind of a bitch. It’s like a controlled demolition. Emotional Demolition ? Meh, perhaps.

I can’t say for sure it’ll often be barbecues & drunken debauchery afterwards. I already try to mix that in from time to time NOW. But it WILL be different. I anticipate moving forward into a new stage, as I strike the set of the previous one. The work will be done, so I will look towards non-conformist lemming paths. I will be different too. I could file this under a heading “Mid-life psuedo-crisis as fodder for future stories/performing arts.”  None of this makes sense. ALL of it makes sense.

Check in a month or so and see if I’m just rambling on & on about cats. That Mittens! She’s a Doozie!

WOLFF-E!     /;^{|}