When will my life, be this delicious
I thought I knew what my book was about but then it tore itself apart. I tried to control it. I turned it into monotonous ritual. There was no life on the page or in the words. Contrived and boring. It wasn't reflecting the true insanity that is brewing in my kitchen. So I am taking a hatchet to it and hoping to find some artistic wisdom. If I am lucky, a little hope.
This is not a blog. It is just my mission statement: I will write my elusive book and go back to British Columbia, my home.
