i didn't write a blog,
for the fist time in a long time.
there just isn't always a big deluxxxe something going on.
it's a clif bar for dinner,
an uphill struggle (literally) to walk crabtree after his all-day incarceration,
and a blarped-out night of exercising while watching netflix,
with no chill whatsoever.
not exactly what i wanna brag about, or think about, for very long.
when i woke up....way too early, as usual,
and dealt with the dog, again,
and got ready for a big day of work, again,
and did all the exact same things i do every single day,
i didn't really have a story in me to tell you guys.
these days the dog spends more time than he ever did in the crate,
(because somebody stepped out, we're steeping in a sloppy sh!t-salad)
and he's left to a new and less-expert fate for hours every day.
so when i get home, as quickly as i can;
if i'm late at all,
his life has been a prison of pure misery.
that's why we gotta chomp down on a clif,
and then go get out on these roads,
he and i together,
to power through the pent-up electric activation coursing across our crossed paths.
and we've gotta get after it asap.
dinner gets put on pause when the pup has been caged up too long.
what else could i do?
it's not his fault, and it's not mine, either,
but it sure falls on our shoulders to share the burden.
not much gets accomplished, and we're both doing less,
despite the demands being bigger.
that's a new thing i'm certainly NOT enjoying these days.
see why i waited on writing yesterday?
it would've been worse if i hadn't taken the time to reflect, first.
wanna see some tattoos?
since my life is an even three-way division between dog, work, and food,
and dog and food aren't doing it for me so tough right now,
maybe take a look at what i did yesterday:
oh, and waitaminit,
because there's more...
and this one is completely different:
two completely unrelated styles,
two very different clients,
two distinct approaches to freehand custom blabbity-blaah-blahness-
and just one dude doing it all as hard as he can.
my photo skills are apparently reserved for plates of pizza.
i think it's because i'm always so rushed-feeling.
i don't rush tattoos.
since i always have something to do immediately afterwards,
the photo of the end result is almost always eschewed in favor of moving forward.
at any rate,
i DO occasionally get to do fun tattoos-
it's a funny thing to me that the brightest spot of these last few weeks
would some out of the darkest place i spend my time in,
and my favorite place to be would seem so charred and chewed-up.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is not as lively as it was,
and while there's nothing for it but to keep livin' on,
and movin' on,
and walkin' on,
i'm still surprised how grateful i am for the idiosyncratic crapquake of work.
it's all really happening, neighbors.
i lose a day off,
but i gain the company of my children.
that's a good thing.
family togetherness, and food, and laughs,
and a little alleviation of the symptoms,
if not the cause,
of this collapsing and ungainly woodsly goodsly hideaway;
never quiet, never soft.....