My second cup of coffee tastes good today, my cheese sandwich. Outside, pure gloom. Looks just like a foggy day, but it’s pure smoke. I feel myself slipping into this paranoid space. But most of all I find myself in total reality, everything is crystal clear, Smokey clear. This is what Smokey the bear was trying to stop. But we don’t control the Earth. We can hardly control ourselves. I can’t control myself from throwing everything to the side, laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, cleaning my closet, working on my website, working on business stuff for the show and the book, taking a shower, sweeping the floor, picking up the gazzillions of game pieces and cards off the floor, putting away my shoes, my bra, my sweaty shirt, cleaning the poop on the rim of the toilet, (Jack), oh and studying my sign language and thinking about what to make for dinner. But I gotta get to my studio. NOW. I have four hours left of babysitting time. I gotta express my pent up smokey desire, not in word but in an abyss of color and line.