I failed Art History which, if ya know me, it's kinda ironic. But I didn't get an 'F' for lack of trying. Quite the opposite actually. I loved it but the course design was graded on writing not exams. And I never turned a paper in. I couldn't.
Caravaggio was one of the topics and I became fascinated with him and I spent weeks researching his life and works. And a five page essay became ten then twenty and then it was too late.
Walking on the rails trails from Pittsburgh to DC was one of the most special times during the walk and I spent a few days in the Blue Ridge Mountains and along the Potomac this weekend. Its beauty indescribable just like that famous painting of Byblis.
There's so much I haven't written about and I have hundreds of drafts on my blog and dozens of notebooks and journals still unpublished because, truthfully, I don't like most of what I write. And so I throw things out there in pieces and parts most of which ends of confusing the hell outta people, even the ones that know me.
But my weekend taught me one thing. We're all busy, inundated, I hope, pursuing our passions and dreams and just trying to keep a sense of self throughout it all. And my blog has sort of been one long continuous thread of stream of consciousness.
I tried to separate and maintain several blogs but that became untenable and unbearable, especially since the adventure continues, so I've pared it down to just two now here and Chef Big Dog.
I have a lot to do and say but I realize now, I only have mere moments of your time to share this story with you and I'll try my damnest to respect them more.
This weekend is already a long time ago. Sail.