I'm sitting here on the curb in the park at night, waiting to get a call from Paul, saying he is ready to go home. I don't mind it too much because it's fairly nice out and it gives me a chance to do a bit of writing. I already managed to get some drawing time in today, at the library. I find surrounding myself with books to be a very calming atmosphere. While I was there, I picked up a few tomes on deception and truth telling. I figured since one of the problems that Paul and I have been having was that I was lying to him, I should perhaps look into that.
I have to say that I have had a rather artistic and creative afternoon and evening. I feel like Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe busying away at their own artistic pursuits. I think the bit of fresh air and exercise I got on my little walk did me some good. I find that the air smells different depending on the time of day. Night air always has the lingering heat of the day in it, whereas morning air is crisp and cool. It's as if by morning, someone has taken the earth and shaken it like a snow globe so that all the freshness is stirred up, ready for a new day. I think this would be a good thing to put on my blog.