This blog began as a journal of my painting escapades and remains rooted in that impulse. There is only so much I can write about art, because words can only go so far in conveying the full story of my latest piece. I’m a high school dropout and I paid zilch attention in my English classes… any classes, really. So what right do I have to bore you with a blog put together with very little formal skill? I wish I were better at creative writing, but I’m not. My spelling is atrocious, there’s no room for perfect grammar or pronunciation, and I’m not going to let my shortcomings get in the way of something I enjoy doing. I write about personal stuff—things I wouldn’t share with most people face to face—but typing on my keyboard is a different kettle of fish. I write openly about addiction, my psychiatric history, and everything in between. I’m a recovering alcoholic, recovering is the big word here, which is hard to say aloud, but it’s the truth, and that honesty is what this blog is all about. Please don’t judge. This site receives few hits and very few people will even read this, so if you’re after great works of literature, you won’t find them here. Thanks for your visit—please hit the like button so I know someone came across this. Thanks for reading, and have a splendid day!