Stare.

Have you ever gotten in one of those moods where you are inclined to extended periods of staring? I have them sometimes when I’m playing guitar for fun and a particular phrase comes out that engages my mind, and right now my mind must be engaged with thought. I keep staring. Hah. Even while I’m writing this I’m inclined to staring. It’s possible it’s because my sleep pattern is getting messed up (it always gets changed when we’re on the road!).

The funny thing is that I can’t always identify which thoughts are making me prone to stare. Ahh…well. On to more interesting things.

I went in a minute ago to get the card out of the camera so I could post some pictures from this weekend but there were only about a dozen on there. Someone must have already dealt with them and uploaded them to a computer. No big deal, but it means no pictures in this post Unless I post from the archive. I think I’ll just click on a random page in my album and post something from it.
Ok, here’s The Little Trumpet That Was, from page 45 (current page is one, the oldest page is the highest numbered).

You may notice that I used the past tense of “to be,” and indeed this trumpet is no longer. The robbers took it out of its case and stepped on it I guess they just don’t have time to pay attention to what has fallen on the floor and where they are stepping. I had made it for a contest, including moving valves with springs made out of a high E guitar string wrapped around a pin. It lost, of course