Hey there, How's it going?

My little condo is in grave danger of being turned into a rainbow.  So far, I've done this.

The green looks nice with the balcony cushions. And the green will be especially nice during the winter, I think. The balcony is coming along nicely. There's a nice wooden bench now. And the pansies are finally raising their heads above the rims of the pots. A dinner party for four! Oh...wait...

I've also done this. Ditto the winter thing.

The kitchen is already bright enough. When the sun shines in at its afternoon angle, it looks psychedelic in there. I'm resolving NOT to put color anywhere else.

Instead of painting, I'm going to go back to demonstrating when I need something to do. Today I staged a protest at the Guthrie.

Honestly, if I see another anti-lockdown, anti-mask protester carrying a sign that says My Body, My Choice, I may totally lose my shit.

What's pushing you to the brink? There are so f-ing many things, right?

This world

The moon still rises and sets in this topsy turvy tragic world.

The city still takes my breath away though there's absolutely nothing to do besides walk and dodge other humans.

The abandoned flour mill just down the block seems like a metaphor for everything now.

The Guthrie Theater has cancelled the rest of its season. For a week or so the sign in the lobby read, "This building is closed today." Now that sign is gone, and the doors are plastered with dire notices.

The city is all lit up. The marquee above the Guthrie says "Promise this world your love." Is that a line from a play? I don't remember.