Approaching my birthday and I’m brewing in my stew. Of life. Of mights. Of my personal fights. How much do I have left in me? I look at my mountain top that I have not nearly climbed. I must reach the peek by night fall this time. I want to stand tall, and view the horizon line.

Ten years have quickly passed. And I have amassed a collection of adventures. Not many pictures. But many images that are in my head. Images I will take with me until I’m dead. And this mental photo album will grow and grow. Until a force data dump obstructs it’s flow.

I’ll illustrate animals for generations to come. Drawing the icons we forget as we grow old. Make sure the little one knows which ones will bite. Make sure she knows not to quit without a fight. She will not reach her mountain top for years to come. I hope when she reaches it she’ll find us standing tall in the sun.

Little one we are all on this journey and sometimes you’ll find yourself alone. Sometimes along the way you’ll find yourself a home. Sometimes along the way you’ll find yourself a friend. All you can do is pray that your friends stick around till the end. And hope when it’s all over we will all find that same mountain top, that we all climbed. We can all look at the same horizon line. And we will see our life’s work as it stretches through time. Then we can all pray for that moment not to end. Or maybe once there it will just start all over again.

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I’m taken a back. Taking a wack to the head, Jack. I look in side and it no worky here no morey. Words are not coming out easily, fluently. I sit and stare at a blank canvas. A line. An idea that has little idea. And there is no beauty. And there is only hard work.

Wishing that things would flow. Like the flow of my fingers knowing where the keys are hitting the keyboard. Knowing how to, when to, automatically, auto pilot. Flowing water down mountain top drip through rock, stone, hard substance. Finding it’s way. Drip. Drop.

Wanting ideas to shine, mountain top beam truth. Wanting to set an example for myself to live by but not wanting to make that example impossibly difficult, perfect. Know that you are going forth. Slowly finding truth, but not beating yourself up over it. On it.

Thinking of icons. Towers. Built for little nuggets. Chicken fried. Tied. Peeping out of their plastic side. vibe. I see it in the distance. It is perfection. We are all gathered round. Laughing. Well rested. Well fed. And it was all worth the test.

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