Mornings After

I may have overdone it a bit yesterday, but I was pleased as punch to take part in an event that’s first of it’s kind in South Carolina. It seems my dreams are closer than previously anticipated, which is both thrilling and terrifying. On the “Day After,” I have slept until noon and have the clumsy exhaustion typical of having spent a day like “normal” people can. I am thankful for the air conditioning in my vehicle, and delighted to know that a new source of rehabilitation on a long, hot day can be as simple as going to a movie.

I have no regrets — zero, none — about it, but today I am suffering from a prostrate mobility that makes my body try to remain motionless while my mind races through clouds of cognitive fatigue. When all logical means of proceeding about one’s day fail, one might as well go outside and paint before the heat renders it impossible. I am an outdoor artist as long as the climate permits; the remaining six months of the year I am a graphic artist. Let’s go get those canvases wet.

And video from yesterday is forthcoming.

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