Mad throes of deadline and pixel management madness with about a dozen gigs and clients and projects floating over my head in addition to the e-meet and e-greet of work online.
This is the specialty of Yours Truly = all of the above and it is my passion.
Thanks for your attention in this matter.
Gave the feral cats some snacks and for that not only are they sated and ecstatic but the good feline karma abounds.
Back from over there, to the east and to the west, a junket of socializing and imaging.
This must be said
Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square PA nearly sent YT into visual overload, complete botanica revelry with orchids of all types and their penned hybrids hanging and not only different variations of water lilies but a platter was unforgettable as well as their silver garden and the realm of fuzzy special grass that Phoebe and I ran out bare feet over and I really pondered rolling horizontally down a small and manmade hillock and sprinting out of there as I'm sure not only the guards and such but the patrons would have been aghast at my complete giving-in to the power of green.
Before entering the buildings I made a kite with Phoebe and Nathaniel and Oliver and it sailed head and shoulders with the others, all of us taking a turn running with the goddamned thing and then getting a bit restless and not caring too very much if our collectively-created kite attacked the others. I ran the kite down into an Edward Scissorhands portion of the grounds and then we lost Nathaniel in one of the topiaries.
All in all the trip was what a trip should be: exhausting, laugh-ridden, hedonistic, unforgettable, artful.
Back to the madness and all things Perfect.

Cross-state/cross-country/cross-platform Love.

Writing this on Karen's b-day, Halloween. Happy b-day to You, KC, out in the land of good music clubs, border food, ersatz cowboys and faux cowgirls, armadillos, and oso much more.
I did the requisite things. I made caramel apples. I roasted pumpkin seeds after eviscerating pumpkins. I scared small children and made them scream as loudly as possible TorT.
This is a good holiday, despite how the neo-evangels and neo-crusaders want to make one and all think it is all pagan and the like. This is a fine holiday as it involves creativity, caramel, masks, mischief (within reason), no gift giving (not counting candies).
Today, and this is truly Perfect, I finally pilgrimaged my way into Mutter Museum, a delightfully rather pell-mell amassment of vitrines of medical oddities, castings of same, lack of sense-making labels, no artsy-fartsy lighting, and a truckload more of medicinal bric-a-brac and inanities, and a stuffed and dusty brown bear, and an oversized colon, and more.
Yeah yeah yeah video taping is oso not allowed. However. Me being me, I checked the surveillance scene, found a very handy cul-de-sac in the Lewis and Clark display for readying the digvid and ya-fuckin-hoo away I went, wending my way through high school loudmouths to shoot a gorgeous angular sight I had predetermined - a tapeworm folded over neatly on him/herself or it, perhaps, in vitrine, just past a hand of skeleton wired bone and just beyond the gaggles of thrill-seeking teens. A triumph. And then I got the vitrine of brains of epileptics and the Akin & Ludwig and Witkin-famed face. Oh, what an art day. A day of resolute, no holds barred, and let's slide our ass down the marble bannister for good measure day.

Mutter Love.





ps: I heard there existed this image online, of Yours Truly working the Colin Powell hoopla. Do I own a crimson blazer. No. This blazer is actually burgundy. Do not color calibrate your monitors. Thanks for your attention in this matter.