Divinatory echoes...

You know, a while ago I did a reading that mentioned that my near-future concerns would be trying to make the best art I could...and that it would echo into other areas of my life. It finally seems to be kicking in a bit. I'm halfway done with a doll for someone at work. (I have to find the right kind of box to send another off to someone:) I've been pokey.) It seems to be the only thing right now I'm doing that makes a decent bid for my attention. Work is very unrewarding, frustrating and migraine-y. Home is quiet, or filled with necessary chores.
(I need to do my laundry, dust my knicknacks, check my bankbook, etcetra, etcetera, and of course, etcetra...) I'm taking another much-needed break from the dating scene lest I rip out some poor unsuspecting guy's throat in a surge of hormone-driven fury. (What's that moon phase again?) But the artwork is satisfying even when I'm frustrated and have to carve off a dolly face *again* because I keep screwing up the expression of the eyes.


Today, extra ibuprofin for work. And a lot of tums or something, until I can get home, make dinner and try to finish the doll.