Starting Over; Prelude

     Forgive me for spending more time trying to find my way back to my blog than writing in it. It's like the recurring dream where I am searching for something...a treasure in the trash curbside in the dark, coins in the grass beside the sidewalk, my long-lost teddy bear-- tattered from decades of affection, the script I'd thought I'd known by heart--forgotten as I found my place on stage (late for my cue and clueless)...or my car keys when I'm rushing out the door leaving for work.Forgive me for that rambling, run-on paragraph. I can scarcely keep track of my own thoughts, yet I expect my readers to delight in my words. Were I editing a composition submitted by one of my children, there'd be red all over this.

   I refuse to make my blog a confession of my faults (I'm Catholic; I prefer to share those with a priest.) But now that my guilt about neglecting my public on-line billboard has been expressed, allow me to get down to the business of spilling my guts. Blood. Tears. Opinions. Observations. Metaphors. Hyperboles. Hypotheses. And just plain silliness.

(The artwork was created using Adirondack Alcohol Inks on glossy photo paper. I am happy to report that I have given this piece away to a friend who is rediscovering the joy of playing with art supplies.)