the Crosshouse dreams in the desert, Stark and vaguely menacing, something that always seemed like it was about to happen and never quite did, mirrored in my own pattern of making it to the finish line and then choking, always on the verge of something always almost making it, gathering all the information, getting all the stuff ready to do the project, or take the step or make the leap, and then blowing it and abandoning everything. It's still happening over and over. I've got so many almost finished projects. The insatiable one keeps consuming because I think that if I can just have a little more, I can push through, and I can finally do it, and I can finally publish, and I can finally complete, and I can finally, finally, finally, but most of the time it finally never happens. It never happens. I never actually get there. I get so close, and then I blow it. I do think I need someone to help me, just to take the first steps, just to do one or two of these myself, just I mean, to do one or two of these with some help, I think then I could do them myself. We were never meant to do this alone. That's the point. The myth of the lone genius, the myth of the mythic creator, lie detector, there's a reason they all descended in madness. Were not meant to even create an isolation. Today is 11 bots, the day of creativity, of the creative genius, of making shit. I'm making something for my community today, of course, Richard batts, on the day of bats, I'm creating a celebration to help him feel honored in the community he made that has helped me awaken and so many others. And I know creativity comes in lots of ways, and I'm gonna let that be enough, but I also want to look at, I mean, I also got some new art stuff, and I want to play with it. And I also have to finish this stupid scene so that my brain power can be freed up.