Additionally...

Although I already made my "daily" post (lack of art nonwithstanding), I must journal a bit more.

Immediately before uploading that last post I read it aloud to Reagan. Doing so helped me notice some bad word choices and bad flow choices. I fixed the former, but neglected the latter so I could keep reading and engaging him.

Nothing in the post was astoundingly new to my listening audience, but he was a good sport about it and responded well. The practice of speaking my words (something I've often heard recommended by teachers and writers) brought flaws in my writing into sharp focus. It was much more obvious that I tend to write in a stream-of-conscious way, and the difference between my blogging and good writing was very very clear.

I wonder if I go much longer without fresh human contact... will I lose all coherency? Will sentences lose structure and letters lose their places, and everything come tumbling down into a quivering mass with the consistency of jello crossbred with pudding? Fortunately, the kick in the ego was more a wake-up call (kick?) than something woundful. (It's very late, my brain is deflated. I refuse to apologize even though this proves the shoddiness of quality.)

In any case, after the posting I kept talking with Reagan. It was one of those great discussions (second one today!) that highlights how well we fit together. In canine years he's muuuuch much much older than I am. It doesn't have anything to do with human age, and I hesitate to link it to human maturity, and hesitate slightly less to link it to human put-together-ness.

He's an old hound, comfortable in his skin and comfortable with what he knows, and I'm a young pup eager to investigate anything and everything I can stick my nose into. We tolerate each other very well, though. He doesn't mind when I yap yap yap about all the new things fascinating me, and occasionally pull him along for an expedition. I don't mind that he's not always on my tail, and I'm happy to suspend my wanderings from time to time. We curl up in the shade together and swap tales about what things we saw apart.

R's not that much of a homebody, though. He wants to travel as much as I do. We just have different mental/philosophical styles.

My mind is weighty with all the input it's taken in today, about being a writer and being an artist, and so many different thoughts to synthesize and see which way I land. I hope I remember enough.