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Why are we weighed upon with heaviness,
And utterly consumed with sharp distress,
While all things else have rest from weariness?
All things have rest: why should we toil alone,
We only toil, who are the first of things,
And make perpetual moan,
Still from one sorrow to another thrown:
Nor ever fold our wings,
And cease from wanderings,
Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm;
Nor harken what the inner spirit sings,
'There is no joy but calm!'
Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things?

--Tennyson, Song of the Lotos-Eaters


I chose to include this verse in my bio because it was the basis of the story that gave me my first breakthrough in writing technique, and I'm very fond of it for its own sake. For now, my interests are mainly in art, literature and poetry. I guess I've been a little less optimistic of late, and art gives me focus and even comfort.

I think that art comes in as many forms as can be conceived of by the artist (or perceived by the person experiencing it). If there's any purpose at all in life, it's to experience, and then to express.

Anyone who despises bickering, adores acquiring knowledge, and is aware of absurdity is welcome to read and comment, though I won't promise much in the way of this journal's value. But I do want to meet some of the smart, varied, challenging people I know are out there.

Please, indulge the rambling posts and contribute your thoughts, if you want.

(Also, I'm writing a novel at the moment, so I post about that more than anything. Anyone who is also interested in reaching that elusive goal of being published is welcome to introduce themselves and apply for commiseration.)

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