I don't know why

I don't know why but this stuff keeps happening.  It's the truth.  I think it's finished, I think we live on a small island in a large round ocean called earth, that there are only 500 of us left, and that doesn't really help.  I still make 'em.

But maybe if there were only 5o of us left...no it'd still happen...but maybe if there were no more paper and no more ink...no more pencils.  If all this were restricted by the government and if art itself were restricted, maybe that would work...

I don't know really.  I own a bunch of pencils and paper...I gotta use it up one way or another.  One day August Renoir was walking home with a friend when he saw one of his paintings he had given to a neighbor being used as a patch on a chicken fence...it seemed to make him happy.

I'm tired this morning.  Seth wants to go to Rock n Roll Vintage guitar shop and I don't wanna go...but I probably will.

I gotta fix these photographs...they look lousy.  Well they're better but not great darn it...oh well this will do...