Perfect burning desire to create. Effervescent notion of how to attack the figure today with a ruthless will to distill the crucial elements and abolish the plethora of unnecessary details like a gardener pruning with abandon. The day is barely born, dark and cold but the warm quiet inside is the perfect environment to germinate this fist of will tickling my cortex.
Instead, I will shower, dress and drive to work. Hack and wrap some dead beasts. Ponder dinner. Drive home. Cook, eat and sleep; then do it all again hoping that, 48 hours from now I won't be too tired to find the same stomach and vision and magic I'm wasting now.
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