27/98 Dearest Sarah, I’m miserable and missing my babies and I'm munching on blue corn tortilla chips dipped in Hellman's mayonnaise. I don't give a tinker's damn for bananas dipped in chocolate. I love Hellman's mayonnaise. Even though I'm eating these here genuine all natural blue tortilla chips, I don't exactly trust them as genuine. Have you ever seen blue corn? So much of arting (if the Grimshaw Lierary Society can call it journaling, I can call it arting) is staring into space, eating mayonnaise on blue corn chips. Maybe farting is what I’ll be doing after this disgusting menu, but I digress. I digest? An artist has to think and do many things to avoid arting. A button must be sewn on, surely a bookcase needs to be dusted, and baking chocolate chip cookies is definitely the recipe for producing an award winning sculpture. I yearn for a sand between the toes walk, on a sun-blinded beach bare feet in the sea sand shifting, tide tugging, balance wobbled by ebb and flow, Memories I haven't lived grow frail and sad when I yearn for what I don't have.
