Today I give myself a generous ten minutes to work out the kinks in my brain.  There are several, and unkinking them is a bit of shallange, chall we say, but no matter.  Our’s is not to wonder why, our’s is to get on the stick.

Get on the stick?  What a horrible image.  What are we, Indonesian shadow puppets?

I could use a good roti canai, now that I think of it.  But there’s the timer, now down below 8:00 and why am I dicking around with images of getting on the stick?  I’m on the stick now, on the clock.  Ten year-old comedienne in neighborhood restaurant the other day:

“what’s brown and sticky?”

Like the thirty times before it we asked what.

“A stick”

Indeed.  The answer is so simple and obvious, once you have it.   Today I am aiming to edit sessions 12 and 13 of the workshop into a more or less flowing 1:30 clip and also to get the Surfing Competition into some kind of shape, see where it’s at, so it can be finished during the next session, to the extent that the kids can refine it at this late date, during the last session, when they will want to do everything but.

Went in there on four hours of sleep last time, might as well have gone in wearing a bee keeper’s outfit with 100 bees inside the mask.  “Eliot, you got bees in your bonnet.”

The child comedienne who stood by our table asked “What kind of bees give milk?”  We were stumped again, and it showed on our faces.

“Boobees!” the kid piped, her mother laughing at the other table.  All so damned obvious, once you know things like where the general keeps his army (up his sleevey) or why 6 was scared of 7 (cause 7 8 9).

Two minute warning, I’m warning you.  Moods will be flipping, I’m just sayin’.  Great reasons to be optimistic as I plan and try to put myself and the organization in position to have some good luck.  A little bit of luck would be very welcome around now, as 1:00 comes and goes on the timer, but even without luck, one must tickle the rock up the steep incline, the slippery slope, the sheer mountain face, the shiny mirror, the … void.