New mug, biatch.

For something so small, I shouldn’t be so fond of it.

And yet I am.

There’s a simple joy, certainly, in working with my hands.

Cutting, drawing, sculpting, stitching, slicing, taping, gluing .

Sometimes I think they’re the best of me, and the most worthy of recognition. I realize, of course, that they’re nothing more than sinew and bone.

Still.

…that doesn’t change the fact that, deeply inebriated and looking up at the ceiling… they twitch and writhe with a life of their own, ever eager to be making something,

To craft a legacy worthy of my name.

Today was “National Donut Day”, and I didn’t even know. Someone offerred me one: a long John with pink, strawberry icing.

I wolfed it down with an enthusiasm bordering on piggish.

I am what I am.

…I think Popeye said that.