Ideas are bubbling up again. Works in progress are shifting. And I have some odd images that keep making their way into my brain. Totally a next generation. Some of these will shift and sort, some of them will fade. Some of them will be real solid pursuits. But they all clamour for my attention. They tend to appear, like characters in a novel.
And that's a funny thing. The novel. I am not blazing any trails there in word count, but people and events just appear as I type. I write a little each day, in scenes. And I am intrigued. The two kinds of creativity are talking to each other. Some visual questions I had put to myself are just appearing too. Some with answers. Some with, uh, uh, not yets.
So out comes Little Laughing Buddha, and the candle, and some quiet time for capture.
And since it's Naughty Friday, I wonder, perhaps a naughty scene?...huh, Buddha...no, still nothing. But he's smiling.
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