Semi-Daily Scribbles

Tossed out in plain view for everyone to scratch his head and state an opinion.

This is exactly why Georgette recoils when she is asked: "What are you working on?" She doesn't much like: "When's it gonna be done," either. But the dd/mm/yyyy one isn't as intrusive as "The What Question." Georgette's creative, and that very creativity leaves her in a tailspin much of the time. Her work is comprised of so many components that labels are futile; definitions the cause of major anxiety. Elements are constantly in motion, or they keep within strict parameters. Notes go sharp before they turn flat. Muted colors are vibrant with just the right word. Plus, the whole kit and caboodle relies on a person's willingness to not believe what she sees (or tastes.) Georgette's projects are thought experiments with a bunch of twisty predicaments chained together and–it deserves another mention–lots of moving parts. Georgette can't explain her dreams, she can only attempt to draw them out into the light. She'd be ecstatic if the "What's" and "When's" were to die a quiet death, though she can muster a "How" if her experiments are going particularly well.