Of necessity

The small paintings are off to the framer and photos are being printed. There's an air of excitement blowing about in the cavern between my ears.

As is my usual course, I am thinking of one more piece for the exhibit, one of our senses, smell, called to be in the planned installation. I have an idea, but to tie the nose to language is an effort beyond the turning of a page, reading and listening. Not to mention taste in this most literal manner. Maybe two more to make, the latter called "To Each Their Own." Never mind this orifice, the mouth, is covered as audio; still, applying the same standard to nostrils eludes.

Likewise, coming up with titles that do not rely on puns has proven difficult.

One might then infer I have not been playing poker of late, it seemingly gone the way of discussing politics for neither cortisol or adrenalin a welcome surge with other mechanisms of physiology required. Besides, I cannot afford indulging my tight-weak tendencies, let alone passions of dogma.

Still, the dog must be walked, both animals fed, fruit trees pruned and that damn brush pile ashed.

The last holds promise as parts escape into the atmosphere.