City of Legends

The cats have signed a mutual nuclear defense treaty with North Korea because I have my headphones on and am playing "I’ve Got the Power".  Cowards.  Remember Jeff Bridges in "The Fisher King"?  Same principle.  I’m just a better dancer.

Figured out the major logistical, strategic and tactical barrier to the book.  Very exciting.  Still don’t have a final title, but I have a concept, an idea, a dream, and a rabid horde of creative artists backing me and the project.

Full colour, heavy stock glossy paper, perfect bound, with photography pushing the bounds as it synchs up with my poetry.  It works.  Snap.

The cats have taken hostages aboard a nuclear submarine off the coast of Johannesburg and are threatening to rain "pain and bloody catnip" from "here to wherever ‘there’ is".  Gutless felines.

Ten thousand thank yous to my beloved friend, Russian photographer and model Olga Zavershinskaya for giving me a most excellent idea.  Okay, she gives me lots of great ideas, but most of them involve things other than my books.

Because he doesn’t.

The cats are bricking themselves into the corner, I put on David Bowie’s live rendition of "Width of a Circle" from David Live.  I think the cats have converted to Christianity, there are no atheists in foxholes.

Feeling pretty good…have my pains and heart strains but all in all, this has been the year.  Figured out some very important stuff, like the emotional alchemy to falling out of love.  Never had that formula before.  It was obvious.  Say goodbye to a couple of jungle cats.  That was a relief.  Tired of the kicking, the sabotage, of my life I had committed by confusing passion for compassion. 

Writing like a madman.  No, actually, not metaphorical, I am writing like a madman.  Hanging by my heels and screaming in Serbian at the clay wizard.  He never really understood me anyway.

Actually, no, just amped up on good vibes.  Yes, the Sunday Girl still reigns supreme.  I’ve promised that won’t change, you don’t want to make me go back on my word, do you?  No?  Good.  This is love, not confusion.  It feels good.  It is good. 

Watch the blog for news…some major movement in my universe over the next month or so.

Hold it, have to go, the cats have put together a primitive flamethrower and are trying to drive me into a large cardboard box so they can ship me away.  If they let me choose the city, I’m ready.

I’m right now cranked up to 11 on the headphones, listening to Matthew Sweet’s blazing guitar on "Girlfriend".

The cats are unamused when I get amped up.  I know that if Ariel, the big female orange, could develop an opposable thumb, there would be a deathmatch between us over it, and my refusal to let her go outside and slaughter birds int he yard. 

Or she’d just get into the cutlery one night and come for me in my sleep.  I’d catch her, but then she’d look at me and articulate a "Meow" that translates to "What do you expect from me, I’m a cat.  Can I have the knife back?"

It’s Sunday evening (here in the suburbs of Washington, DC). I have friends and loved ones spread across, at last count, 11 time zones. So, in a way, time is irrelevant. I keep telling my clients that, but they believe in deadlines. They should believe in live things, not dead things.

Sometimes people are just so slow to pick up on the good ideas.

Note: Yes, I am weeks behind on the upgrades to almost anything. Give the man a break, he is still outperforming just about any other thing in his age class. I just take on ten times as much as anyone else, so when I only get as much done as five people I look like a slacker. Back off and go accomplish something with your life. Make your mark somewhere besides on a fire hydrant.

Uh oh, Pointer Sisters on my iTunes with "Jump". Great energy tune. Cats are heading for the weapons bunker and slipping on the kevlar. Cowards.

I am still rather recovering from the way in which Hillary Clinton seems to have been marginalized by Barack "Messiah" Obama’s people. We’ll see if he is as smooth snake oil salesman as he thinks he is. I wouldn’t bet against John McCain right now in the election. And I am sorry, people, I put country, world, ethics and my feminist convictions well ahead of loyalty to any political party. When you start answering to party above world, country or conscience, you don’t deserve my consideration. Party Unity usually is only a good rallying cry in a fascist or communist state. I don’t think we’re there…yet.

Prince (and the Revolution) are feeding me the notion of "Let’s Go Crazy". Not a bad notion in a world gone completely insane. The cats are now on the phone, advising me they have "the bomb" and are not afraid to use it. I laugh, as I know they don’t have the missile technology to deliver it accurately.

I am glad, seeing my slow recovery from the early summer, that I canceled the tour. I don’t mind the notion of being a martyr to my work, but that would have been asking for it. I do watch with a slightly raised eyebrow the procession of people who seem to regularly visit my sites (thank you StatCounter). Move along, nothing to see here for some of you. Barring direct questions from Barb (ahem) Holmes when she gets to the interview, there are certain tags that are retired.

I am writing some amazing stuff lately, it is only the tip of the iceberg you are seeing on Amomancer. I wish I could slow down, really, but it is like being electrocuted. Your mind tells you to let go of the cable, but your body is locked into the current.

Many thanks to the new generation of muses who have so graciously blessed me with their presence. I am grateful to God and good fortune for the richness of this life and the opportunity to live it, to share it with others, and to have them share with me.