I just came upon writer/poet   Maggie Smith (and how did I NOT know of her??)
This wonderful writing
I am in love with.      This is called      Good Bones.    by Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children. Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways, a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative estimate, though I keep this from my children. For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird. For every loved child, a child broken, bagged, sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world is at least half terrible, and for every kind stranger, there is one who would break you, though I keep this from my children. I am trying to sell them the world.
​ Any decent realtor, walking you through a real shithole, chirps on about good bones: This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.

​

Reading and travel are the best forms of education i can think of. 
School? hit or miss...and even then...its all so varied. and full of problems created by us.
Writers have the ability to influence and direct.  Endless subject matter abounds. 
The mind. Is there no end to this thinking?
I am overcome with too much thinking. But of course I wouldn't give it up.

what do i know?
.

Age.
it's a feeling, isnt it.?
Today I am closer to the end of my life on this earth than ever before. 
I've been thinking about this lately... and how I want to accomplish certain things before it's Too Late.  It isn't morbid really, just realistic.
I used to be much more adventurous than I am now.
Hop in the car and take an impromptu trip... book a flight to NY for a day or two....meet a friend for a spontaneous city rendezvous...paint a wall with abandon...
Now days, I think about driving home in the rainy dark or delayed flight hassles or just plain fatigue....and i say Eh, maybe I'll just stay in. 
Is it due to my age? probably. But much the same way that I like to eat locally and in season (as much as possible), I think my body knows what I need. 
​
Its making me a little sad tho. Because I still have the damn mind of a 38 year old. LOL

Anyway...this painting is called 'an uncomfortabe transition'.
​It was originally something about forest or bark...but evolved as it went.
I liked working on it so much! It was therapeutic and interesting and I enjoyed staring at it and seeing different things, yams came to mind many times.  Lots of detail.