post chaos relief / pre chaos breathing technique

It’s what we do, is it not? We who presume to pick up the pen.
I had to deal with presumption of a different kind: months and months of it – the hidden thought, the prayer that the collection of papers, manuscripts, things jotted down, would all come together, Darwin-style, into an organized entity.  Something bright and shiny.  A new world.

No way on earth, in heaven, hell, or our expanding universe that was about to happen.  Order takes work, design, intention.  Organization requires… Swedish designers.

My momentum creatively was being hampered by the piles of paper strewn about, hidden for the most part behind closet doors, in piles under tables, in dust-collecting shelves of my cob-webbed mind.

About 8 manuscripts in total, some complete, others in states of development and undress, unity and discord, intention and demention.  And a few plays in similar or likewise states.  To go and sit down with any one of these projects would require half an hour of time or more just to sort and locate them.  So, you know what happened: nothing.

Today I made some order out of the chaos, though like the coming kingdom and its eternal reign, that right and righteous order is not yet in its final state.  Something to work toward, to subdue (likely for the rest of my life).  My artistic hope to have these boxed and organized projects bound and published some day, bowing shelves of cedar designed and marketed by the same Swedish genius that helped me stabilize my ridiculous too-long writer’s bedlam.

And now, a short photo essay of the afternoon: