So much time has passed…

Time speeds up as you age, it’s like a bell curve: one day you’re working on a project and BOOM you wake up and realize months, or years have flown by. Your baby boy is now a young man, your energy ebbs, the ease and quickness you used to take for granted slows by slow degrees to a crawl as your health deteriorates. Oh yes, children, you will be there too one day, looking into a mirror and saying to the stranger staring back at you, “Who in the FUCK is THAT old man, and why is he in my house?!”.

But work HAS been done, and GHOST VOICES (which I consider a far more important project is nearing completion) and then I will embark upon a new aspect of my art: screenwriting and film making.

GOD please grant me the time to finish GV, and my website, and see my grandchildren and so many other things I love in this incredible world you have created for us.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

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