Honfleur Blues

Snow Scribbles

Feed Store

Rhodies

I have quite a few more hours left on my next drawing, so 've decided to post some various photos that appeal to me. The drawing might be up in two to three weeks.

Memories

I wonder how many words I've said in my lifetime. I wonder if any had impact. Gibberish first came out, the equivalent of Wingdings. I'm sure I was expounding on great truths but no one seemed to care. If waa is a word, I had a lot to say. Crying was a big part of my first vocabulary which greatly affected my listeners. 

I've always been a quiet sort. Never had much to say in conversations with groups of people. I like to listen in that situation. Depending on the person, I can keep it going but I'd just as soon not have to talk. I usually take on the role of an interviewer. The greater part of the exchange is done by the other party. I guess that would put me below average in total verbal output as compared to the rest of society. There were, however, too many times when I should have kept my mouth shut. 

I did quite of bit of corporate writing. It was meant for that small world only. It was technically oriented and, for all of humanity, could be read to help one fall asleep. However, the stuff I wrote touched many in that small society and the effects are still evident. Many people are using the things I documented, but things don't last nor will my writings.

It's very interesting to me that for all the communication done throughout history by innumerable billions, most all of it has been forgotten. Life comes along and scribbles over it. Perhaps I  should cry really loud all the time. I'd definitely have a long lasting influence.

Brownie Lust

A park bench group I saw in London. Still looks better in the real.
      

Restoration

The healing of the wound

Is much more painful

Than the wounding

                 

The Spitfire Grill

On Drinking

I remember going to a college kegger once and arriving a bit late. As I surveyed the crowd, a friend came up and called someone over for an introduction.  I noticed as the guy walked toward us that he'd been at the pump a number of times. We shook hands, he smiled and immediately puked on me. Shy and self conscious as I was, I thought I might have been the cause. However, since no one had ever blown chips on me after meeting, I figured it was him, not me.

I don't like drunks throwing up on me or throwing up as I watch. Something comes over me and I want to actively join them. Maybe pubs and bars should have those little bags they use on airplanes. They could hand them out to those who've had too much just in case. I think I could handle seeing somebody fill one up. I would think it a courteous thing to do. I'd look away after though. They might spill.

I went to alot of keggers and parties during my stint at the institution of learning and did my share of imbibing. I have a strong stomach and rarely empty it the wrong way, but when I did in those days, it was always private. Puking in public is embarrassing.

I didn't do alot of drinking after I was married and now hardly at all. I can feel a bit foggy the day after and at my age, I don't need some of my brain cells misfiring. However, I really like wine, and if ever I meet a bullfrog named Jeremiah, I'd split a bottle with him. I'm certain I wouldn't puke.