Why I am not a painter: I've never learned to paint. Like not at all. Speaking of paint, and thinking of addenda (plural of addendum, I'm finding out), here is another anchor-quote that I think does something to explain the impetus and/or impulse for establishing this here blog, for posting my proofs of daily-inexhaustibility. Look:
"The painter paints as if in urgent need to discharge himself of his sensations and his visions."
-- a painter, last-named Picasso
Urgent need? Check. To discharge? Gross...but, yes, check. Sensations? Certainly; I have lots of those. Visions? A bit grandiose, but, yeah, writerly ones. So instead of leaving my urgent discharges* -- my jotted ball-point acrobatics -- on scratch paper for posterity, they'll go down here...plus some pics I take... and plenty of other God-knows-whats.
* Again, gross...but not really...more sexy than gross, I suppose and hope. It's quite natural, after all.
It's going to have photos too? I like where this is going.
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