Sex, Ghosts

I've wanted to write lately, but have felt somewhat stalled out. The past month or so has felt to me akin to running on fumes. S'pose there have been distractions -even my sculptural work has felt shallower than usual. Concentration has been a hard partner to satisfyand even though everything seems the same, it just ain't. There's a great degree of static, both good and bad, running through this here radio program o' my life.

Two forces or ideas seem to pull at me and they both seem to lead to a Marquez-like style when I "pull" back. The ghost and all that is ghostly...and sex, which has always led me around by the proverbial nose. But nothing has so far jelled into product: I guess that this is not so surprising, given the nature of both of these topics and the idea that each can maintain its own degree of cloudiness.

Here is something that is physically real, called "The Courier". My friend, Erica, gave me the beautiful blue chair seat (it's the body/chest of the "human" form). I hope that I've done it some justice-I sure wish I had another chair seat like it to play around with.