I threw this together for Jack's and my San Francisco friends and extended families.
We've been visited by some pretty harsh reality and profound sadness regarding the very grave condition of a beloved member of our community. I prefer not to name names, or post his photo. Though this is a tribute to him, I've no desire to use the schazenfreude of his situation to promote myself.
And, if you have no clue who I'm talking about, this is just my testimonial or homage to the inevitable loss that we all face in life.
Regardless of our beliefs, or lack thereof. There remain times when we all pray for a miracle.
Words are cheap! We hear it all the time. Hell, words are free for that matter. But isn't it true that words contain whatever value we instill or assign to them, or that they inspire in us?
The one great thing about writing is that unlike other artistic mediums, there is virtually no expense when it comes to materials. The words are free, the artiste simple needs to pluck them from their mind and assemble them. Now, the consequences of that assemblage can be extremely profound, it can be helpful, it can even do damage. My intent as a writer/artist is not to provoke people, but to provoke thought, to encourage myself and others to think.
So, I have decided to supplement my writing with a day to day journal. Self-indulgent? Absolutely, there's no denying it. But, hopefully I will touch upon aspects of my own experience that will provoke me to further explore more creative ideas.