There are those days that run away from you like wild horses. You try to catch up, not possible. You watch the day gallop away, you are left in the dust. Today has been that kind of day.
It follows a long night in a dark theater space, running sound for a festival of acts. Not unusual for me. I have spent many hot, summer days in August in a little black box theater trying to commit grievous acts of creation. Semi-theatrical, musical, odd-ball performances of all kinds.
I am not made for summer. My summer-wear: black jeans, black boots, black t-shirt, dark shades, and a hat, usually of a darker shade. It's my own little madness.