I can’t deny I’m having fun with these.
However, today I want to touch on a serious issue.
. . . nah; just joshing you.
So, here’s the thing . . . I’ve been writing long tirades about this or that thing. I’m reasonably certain few people read them and while I appreciate them who do, I occasionally get into a time bind.
This is one of them times. I think the next few posts will have little by way of my wonderful insight into the human condition.
I hope people can cope. But, just in case, I would like to provide a useful link for helping the time pass until I once again fill this space with long-winded and meaningless ramblings.
I mean, honestly, I think most people don’t need the link as they just skip over what I write, but a few people do find my ramblings of value, so here’s a quality substitute to my insightful and worthwhile tirades.
HERE is your link.
And now, the photo:
I don’t see many mushrooms here on the island. Then again, I don’t go places where they grow. That one was in front of our mailbox so I had an opportunity to snap a photo without too much of a detour (about 13.75 inches deviation from the path I normally used to walk).
The joke today is yet another instance of the genius of Ethel.
Since I’ve started naming my doodles I’ve come to realize the cosmic significance of their meanings. What I thought were mindless patterns driven by a (mostly) stable-but-curious mind are, instead, deep insights into humanity’s struggle with finding meaning and purpose.
Sometimes, the wisdom contained in these doodles is so deep that even voicing it would require the balance of most human lives.
Still, I think the names I come up with accurately capture these deep meanings. I can’t yet speak to the purpose because that would require a second title and who’s ever heard of a work of art sporting two (two!) pretentious titles? Certainly, not me.
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.