o diaryland.... I've neglected you so. and so cheerfully.... it's kinda sad.

My days have been spent in the best possible way, though. I'm in the intial stages of illustrating a darling children's book and my brain is alive with jungle animals and creativity is bursting across my cerebral cortex like fireworks.

But all my life I've had this weird struggle. Whenever I'm fully engaged in visual mode, I seem to lose the ability to write. not literally, of course. it's just that I'm so focused on communicating visually, so occupied and enamoured with colour and imagery, that I lose all desire to write.

This has happened to me throughout my professional life. In university, with the obvious exception of the year of Fine arts I did, I lost all interest in drawing. I doodled in the margins of my notepad, but that was it. Any creative expression was directed to poetry and short fiction and the written word. Which is all to be expected when one is consumed with the study of literature and then with the study of journalism.

Design school was the flipside. I was consumed with all things visual and nowhere the twain shall meet.

There must be something biologic to it... something about right brain thinking and left brain thinking. I actually read an article on it recently, and I should go dig it up and read it again, because it's very intriquing to me. My plan is to eventually achieve complete mastery over both sides of my brain, before it dissolves into mush. Some day...

And someday soon I will write a more intriquing entry rife with doggie antics and keen observations about pigs and mosquitoes and how hopeless I am with sunless tanners. But not tonight. My apologies.

Just one more thing: if you have not read Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones, do so at your earliest convenience. It's fantastic! Really spectacular and heartbreaking. Not flawless, but damn close.

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