This chicken is not the problem.
I’m working on something that’s been through many changes. I got so used to circling around, it feels strange to be making progress. Now that I’ve stopped trying to make it be something I didn’t want to do, to suit my perception of what someone told me they wanted.
I am a good little worker-bee. This is my work. But if I don’t care what I do, why not get a steady job, with benefits? On a happy note: I could be wrong about what this person wants. I’m often wrong.
It’s not that I’m unwilling to listen, or take suggestions. I’m happy to get a great idea, especially if I can do it without working my brain into a sweat. It’s not because I think what I’m doing is so important, either. I don’t know why I do what I do, but that’s NOT it.
Which leaves me pondering folly, as in “foolish act, idea, or practice”. Working with energy and diligence towards… what? Something good, I hope. Guess I have a soft spot. Further evidence:
Mark, riding his very own skate bowl, dug by hand in our back yard, poured by a crew from Dreamland. (Who else?) Photo by Bryce Kanights www.brycekanights.com