Sometimes I work, and work and wonder “why?” I must suppose this angst is just the human condition. And working does keep me off the streets (by keeping my alcohol consumption down a bit). And, in truth, I crave all kinds of impossible things: rocks, bones, etc. that can only be imagined, so I must create them myself… Mind you I don’t ever reach the perfection of the vision, but again, that is the human condition.
