I dabble in what people call creative pursuits (I find fine dining extremely creative too).
I am a frustrated artist. A frustrated singer. A frustrated gourmand. A frustrated photographer.This helps. It adds pathos to the plebeian. It gives me more to write about.
A curious voice might want to ask, “But what do you really do?” Those who know a bit about me are aware, and for those who are not I am a blank sheet; I like to start anew. Words are my weapons, they are also my shield. They are a blessing and they are a curse.
I call my main blog ‘Cross Connections’ based on the title of an old column of mine. I have lots of old columns – the longest one went on for 11 years; the shortest lasted at least a year. You will probably find remnants (and some renewal) of me scattered around in the cyber world…for the rest, they are mostly yellowing parchment. Once when I saw my words and face in a newspaper splattered with ketchup at a roadside stall, I admit I was devastated. I do not like ketchup.
I have a healthy disregard for objectivity. Give me an 'ism' and I shall give you a subjective opinion.
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