Too many words. That’s the impression I have from reading a few chapters of a book I was working on in 1997-2004, “Difficult Places”.
I felt literally sick reading it. So much effort to produce … a lot of words.
Just two things today:
Not that these two bits are so spectacular. One is an attempt to make floating figures from plastic bags pulled through slots in foam core. The other is a pretty standard macro of tiny new leaves.
But they express who I am better than all the thousands of words in the “Difficult Places” manuscript.
I will start again.
The penny is a 2015. Living in the present.