Sunday Morning

I can not think of the last time I had one of there, a classic SUNDAY MORNING. I was up early and had a scone and coffee and sat down to read and watch the morning clouds burn off, this was at 7AM, wow. Here is what I was reading. I think it is quite good.

So now I have moved out to the porch and perched on the top of the tomatoe cage is a humming bird and in the crook of the tree across the way is a black squirel. It turns out that they are black (in Palo Alto and Princeton is where I have scene them) because of a genetic malfunction, just like albino's are white.

Oh, and my new goal, experiment and publish. If I do not experiment with it, it is an object that is keeping me and it is best to lighten the load. Although, I certainly like to make art from junk, I shall have to find a way to resolve this. Oh and I have been imagining what steam punk music would be. Steam punk marries fantasy of the late twentieth century with steam era mechanics through the DIY wizardry of the home shop.

Boredom, remember that? It was what we did before the internet.