mad in pursuit journal


Monday Morning Hermit

I cleaned off my work table last night, so this morning my mind is a blank.

I'm trying to take advantage of this long wintry stretch to stir up my inner Surrealist and/or Storyteller. As I look out my studio window to the snowy tree-covered hill, it's easy to pretend that I'm one of those serious artists who occupy a lonely shack on a mountainside in the wilderness. Long ago I read a book about a woman -- a writer -- who built her own cabin in the Adirondacks -- a very romantic idea.

But then I think WHERE IS EVERYBODY???


Drop me a line!