I've been feeling very emotional and disheveled of late. Some might call it a breakdown. And until it becomes more clear, I'm not calling it anything else. But as my mom always says, "if you wish hard enough for a table, eventually you start seeing nothing but tables." For all of my wishing for tables, I am starting to see them everywhere. Instead of a table, I've been wishing for guidance and I keep seeing guidance everywhere: here, here, and even here. I'm not even sure how to interpret the information yet. Until I do, I'll leave you with the following:
When I lived in Santa Cruz years ago, some of my published writings were illustrated by a local cartoonist named Karl Vidstrand. His work was funny, outrageous, and often offensive in the most entertaining ways. Eventually he wandered away from our colorful, creative community and moved to a small town at the edge of California's Mojave Desert, near where the Space Shuttles landed. He liked living at the fringes of space, he told journalist R. D. Pickle. It gave him the sense of "being out of bounds at all times." I suggest you adopt some of the Vidstrand spirit in the next three weeks, Cancerian. Being on the fringes and out of bounds are exactly where you belong.