December 7, 2000: Searching for Waldo

I’ll never be good enough to claim, “I’m great!” Only willing enough to say, “I tried.” I continue to try—over and over, in hopes of better understanding why I can’t give up on this sickness to be creative. Who looks at the rising sun and decides if today’s was better than yesterdays? Does a bird harmonize with itself? Is it the same song day in and day out? My wish is to explore your silent reaction. Everybody wants something from me. They come to me because I let them. It’s a need to feel important but never important enough before their needs.