nest of cloth and fur

nest of cloth and fur

I know I suck. This blog is a microcosm of my life-o-cosm. As I pass through time and space I leave in my wake a trail of incomplete projects: the furniture to repair, the books to finish reading, the whatevers to whatever. When I've finally left this mortal coil, I'm not sure if tying up all of these loose ends will be my hell or my paradise. I certainly would like to be the sort of person who completed one task, or book, or project before adding on another, but I am not and suspect that I never will be. Finding the end of things, especially when the things are wonderful, physical objects brought into the world from nothing and imagination is pure ecstasy. Part of me thinks that maybe if I produced as much as I set out to, each product wouldn't mean as much, but I am pretty certain that is bullshit and mostly I just forget or get distracted or am lazy and would rather watch Law and Order. This is why despite my impulse to do the opposite, I've taken to keeping all of those ideas and project-larvae in my breast pocket. I figure if I keep my ideas secret, no one will know exactly how many things I have not completed and success will be mine when in several years I finally finish that screenplay that I started in college that had been my entire creative focus since the moment I conceived of the story on that cold winters night in my dorm room (wink wink). May the world slash internet never know about the innumerable websites, the copious number of furniture designs, the array of short stories, the plethora of paintings, or the constellation of blog entries that I bailed on! And may we who default never receive our come-uppance!