Well, it's late. The story of my life. Instead of writing an entry I have been discussing art with Skye. Hehe. It's interesting. We disagree on some key points. But she's the artist and really I'm sort of a moron. But I guess I argue my points well enough and that's why the discussion has taken so long.

What is art anyway? Apart from short for Arthur.

I was late last night too. And tired this morning. Worked hard in the sun. Gardening at day. Cutting down bushes. Getting stung by the thorns. Every rose...

My life is purple. If you cut me do I not leak jellybeans? What I want to know is how does a skeleton grow? When I was a baby my skeleton must have been pretty small. And yet now it's kind of big. So if I die and lie in my grave will my skeleton keep growing? One day we will dig open a cemetary by mistake and be horrified at the dead race of giants that must have lived there.

I'm making an effort to be more obtuse. Clarity just clouds the issues. Maybe I should go into politics. You go backwards, I go forwards.

I think I want to start living more for the moment. Nah, on second thought I'll just do that tomorrow.

Oh my god! There's a toilet in the hallway! It's crayzeee!

Wacky times.

Did I mention that it was nice and sunny today? Yes, I did. Not too handy when we were doing the hard gardening work. But after work I went shopping. And my bike had a flat tyre. So I walked. That was pretty nice. Nice in the sunshine. Time to stop and watch Mr Horsey and the geese. Stop and smell the roses.

Damn thorns.

np: mew - snow brigade