In 2014 and 2015 I was hitch hiking the Sterling Highway and I was such a sight with my thumb in the air, dancing while listening to Brown Bird with my headphones on. The sun was up, I was warm and in no hurry to reach my destination. Homer is and hopefully always will be beautiful and peaceful. The people there are hit or miss, not much of an in-between. Those who were chill, were chill. Drama-inclined folks outnumbers everyone with a sense about themselves though. A local shop owner had a shelf full of books on proper business etiquette yet she would still publicly patronize me with the audience of customers as I was working. Other examples flood my memory, but as I have a full day looming ahead of me I need to force myself to sleep. Ciao.

I've always been a child of the night, a creator of the early shadows. The times I painted with the most passion and assurance was when I stayed up overnight or for days at a time and enter the studio at eight am to prep my coffee and paint with a sense of mania, not stopping until I was interrupted and convinced to join everyone else for lunch.

earlier I was imagining writing a super short version of my story
she looks across the waters, facing southeast, where destruction and civilization was surely left behind years before. the moments when her sister wasn't obsessed with direction and knew how many sunlit moments were left in a day to harvest and gather roots and grass, or when the tide would be out to comb the beach looking for any shred of fiber that might be useful.

I have the best focus, initiation, or drive in the early hours of the day. I can write, I can paint, I can create. Most of all, I can read and retain what I've read!