Blog-Flow in the V-sphere

song du jour: El Carazon, Allain Bougrain & Arno Elias

mood: Queasy

Inspired by Rommel's post on blogging flow, I was going to write about how I blog endlessly in my head. Although in recent months I've had to spend far less of my time in this little white box where I type my thoughts to friends and strangers alike, in my head is the perpetual running narration for the loopy, made for TV movie that is my life. Everything I do, I seem to frame in how I would write it, specifically, how I would blog it, and sometimes getting to the computer to get it all down is a kind of creative obsession in the sense that Michelangelo was sort of into the Sistine ceiling. It's become a kind of framing therapy to find the most creative way of expressing any given experience of the moment. (Then again there are weeks like the last few...)

For example, I sat last week in a midtown Starbucks, reading, killing time as if I had any to spare, waiting until I could pick up Skyler, after I busted his father trying to put 4 kids and one other adult sized passenger in a small sedan, headed down Atlanta's 7 lane each way 'downtown connector.' The book I was reading was Leonard Shlain's Sex Time and Power: How Women's Sexuality Shaped Human Evolution. (If you've kept up, no I haven't finished it yet. Yes, I still HIGHLY recommend it!)

Shlain credits the need to negotiate sex and the need discern a reliable mate as being the drives for our acquisition of language. - However that might sound to you, believe me, he makes a VERY convincing argument. No sweet talking. ;-) - In that moment of supreme irony, the most depressingly creative verbal framing my right brain kicked in was that however skilled a wordsmith I am and however amazing an offspring I've produced, I have repeatedly failed my species.

Then there was the don't use Fedex blog post to be, the one where I explained how Fedex failed to pick up from a drop box, then failed to get my package there by even the morning after that. I don't know who's package was the 'most important' that day, but I can tell you it wasn't mine.

Urgent? You ask. Only a project article I was asked to write for Art Jewelry Magazine. Well, at least they've got it now and can tell by the tracking #, their latest contributor is not a complete flake. I'll keep you posted on when it comes out. They (unlike me) work very far ahead, so it might not be for a few issues.

Next was what said right brain always refers to as 'Ode to Stu,' as he is far better than I at blogging with feeling as only a guy can, the moan of life/death that comes with a vile stomach bug or food poisoning or whatever the hell I had. I awoke this morning to find I could walk after all. Just at the point I was sure I could keep down a banana, I got mega cramps. No, the other kind, followed by the sheet rock being ripped off my hallway walls by the contractor, who makes Skyler sound like a quite introvert. After 3 hours of inane-speak (Leo, I've learned something!) he thought to ask as he left, "You don't use your alarm, do you?" Bloody hell!!! Fortunately, using my vast technical skills to retrieve and reinstall the missing part was a better option than my first impulse: smacking him in the head with the old molding in what my mother said would have been, "a justifiable case of boardom." All I can say is that if karma is for real, then to have endured the last 36 hours, I must have been a serial killer last go round.

Matt, aka BabyShakes, asked me the other day how the weather was in the 'V-sphere.' Typical inland fallout from a hurricane hitting somewhere in Florida: high winds, downed tree limbs, and endless rain. No!!! Not rain...I don't have enough buckets for my hallway! At least I have the new name for my blog. Thanks, Matt!

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