Juneblues

Today a plush eggplant was named after me.

I'm really not sure how I feel about this.

For mah song junkies, I wrote a new song on Marilyn the Ukulele last night. It needs a few more verses, which I may or may not get to writing in the next century.

I've been eating copious amounts of grape leaves lately. How can you not when they're out in such abundance? I'm thinking maybe I should preserve some, but I like them a lot better fresh so I'm wondering if it would be worth the effort.

I'm majorly slacking on my reading endeavours for the summer. Finish an Austen novel? Ha. Yeah, how about start an Austen novel. There's been one living in my bag for the past two weeks. I take it out every once in a while, open it, close it, open it, read a sentence or two, close it again. My brain is painfully resistant to new literature. I'll re-read the same book a hundred times. I'm trying to put, oh I don't know, three new books in front of every re-read. I really want to read A River Runs Through It again, so I've locked it in a bulletproof safe.

It's been a trying couple of weeks and my creative energy is waning. I'm going through what I call a "think" phase. When I lose interest in anything I pick up after a couple of minutes, I let my creative-self hibernate for a while and wallow in my indecisiveness.

Resurgence of awesome coming soon to a theater near you.