Mixed Moss

“We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of the dream. Wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams. World losers and world forsakers, for whom the pale moon gleams.â€? -Arthur O’Shaughnessy

I’ve been dreamy lately. This does not lend itself to the job-hunt process, a process I am involved in yet again. C.S. Lewis had it right when he wrote to an American Lady that “job hunt is heart break.” We pray, and we apply. We apply, and we pray. And I haven’t the concentration for either.

At the moment I just want to sit beside the sea (or heck, I’m a midwesterner, my expectations are low; one of the Great Lakes would do!) and sketch lighthouses and terribly iconographic pictures of the inevitable and inescapable vintage bicycle with flowers in a basket on front.

In the summer time I read fluffy brainless novels and sketch fluffy heartless pictures. It’s in the fall, winter, and spring that I do any real stuff. And right now I haven’t much opportunity even for fluff. Certainly I haven’t any opportunity for a vacation. But in the meantime, I can still go down to the river, listen to its stories, and dream.

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