Sunday, March 6, 2011

Night Life

Nothing like fear and doubt to get one motivated. My time is running short and I have so much left to do. Before venturing into the studio for a late night session I was delayed by the sudden and unexpected family gathering in the kitchen. A new batch of cheese pie was piled on a plate on the table as more sweet goodies where being baked in the wood fired oven. A goat's head and various other goat parts were being passed around in a bag and I'm sure they will end up in some soup I am to eat in the future. I'll try not to think about it. But it was a cozy family gathering.

While I thought working at night would be a good idea unfortunately it looks like I might be wrong. Apparently my studio is on the path home form the bar, and the lights attract of sorts of things, one of which being a fellow whose breath was intoxicating, and not in a good way. He stumbled in, his idea of personal space was about the size of his constricted pupils, and began to talk. I deciphered some French; I think Russian, English and Romanian gibberish. He was a hugger and a check kisser, good thing I had my welding respirator on and that I swapped it out once he left, and a sneezer. The dust in the studio started a fit, which was interesting trying to dodge, as he liked to be face to face. I think he wanted me to return home with him for something to do with the Super Doom, the Internet and maybe the secrets to the hidden Nazi gold buried under the French embassy, I'm not sure and I didn't want to find out. I declined his offer and went back to work. This went on time after time after time after time. I'm not sure if he really wanted me to join him or if his short-term memory wasn't working to well. A moth to the flame.

Working at night may not be an option. Having kids come in while I'm working is a welcomed distraction; the nightlife is another matter all together.

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