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Boring, boring, boring and backward they will think - I thought looking at it from my television chair, unwilling to go back to work.

"What am I to do with the rest of my life if I don't do this?" I thought again and again as the final statement to another session of a convoluted life long argument with myself. It is the extension of the teenage anxiety ridden muse:

"What will I be, what can I be, what will I be allowed to be; when I get grow up?"

After 10 days of puttering around the house and yard and garage silently mumbling and grumbling to myself, I succumbed...

To my own choice.

What excites me about this canvas is how it fits like a component into a larger cubo-impression of the largeness, of a tiny part, of the Rockies.

It is worth the effort and it will be another tune of my time spent recording our times.

It is good to be home. I love my family, they hold me to this place.

Other than, of course Mary, who I spend most of my time with - including our intense journeys in something about the size of the lunar lander for a month sometimes twice a year... the person I spend the most time with is my grandson, Alexander.

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