Some events in life seem to make a person reminisce. Like being away from family or loved ones. When we're all together, I don't spend much time thinking about our history.
It's a well documented history, with journals, letters and photos. I don't look at them very often. Other things take up our time and we get caught up in just getting from B to C that we forget about A.
For the most part, A was pretty darn great, but I have a feeling that C is going to be better.
Our summer of dysfunction is almost over. Arrangements to make. Things to pack and pitch. More back and forth. Planning and re-planning. Much art to sell. I wish I were a better sale person.(sometimes) I don't like sales. I don't have the killer instinct in me. It sure would come in handy right now.
Our new gallery space is so clear in my head. I spend too much time there and not enough here, finishing things. There is much to do and little getting done. I've noticed that I spend a great deal of time, in my head.
Is it all some elaborate master plan? Do we make our own reality? Is it all relative? Were my relatives replaced by pod people? I don't recognize them anymore. Maybe it's me that I don't recognize.