April 9, 2015
I’ve missed writing here, but there hasn’t seemed to be much to say, except for little dribbles here and there:
Like how realtors all labor under the same delusion that people want to see a bare, empty house so that they can imagine their own belongings there; when every person I’ve talked to—both the creative ones and the unimaginative ones—say that they like getting ideas from how the current owners have decorated. Sure, spacious is nice—but bare houses are not inspiring.
Like how spinning a bo staff is good for what ails you. I don’t spin it correctly—but it doesn’t matter, it makes me feel good anyway.
Like how the sameness of practicing forms is kind of soothing when things are chaotic; and how, just when you’ve gotten to the point of relaxing, the cat yowls outside the door, wanting to come in, and breaks the mood.
OK, maybe because it’s because I haven’t been paying much attention to the news. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, either, huh?