Aquatic Static

There's this stupid certainty that returning to my creative self at age (almost) 47, having burned pretty much all my media/art bridges 5 years ago, with no light in sight, is the wisest way to use my life from here on out. I could be out on my arse...

There, my blessing with thee.
And these few precepts in thy memory
Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

I almost died when I was born.
My parents didn't know how to care for a baby born, technically, in the European spring, and I got bluer & bluer until a nurse saw me and took measures to warm me up again.
This is an oft-repeated story in my house. My mother tells it like a funny story about fresh-off-the-boat tropical natives in a cold & grey land. As a child listening, I remember feeling special every time it was told. It was one of the few times...