Maggie's Farm

--i have to go with #3, jma. She's really a doll, literally almost.

There sure is a lot of folks named after me. Buddies everywhere. i wonder sometimes what they see in me, but i just let it go, don't want to get a big head. There used to be a lot of Leags too but thanks to that squid 20,000 of them are under the sea.

--i recognize that feeling. Self-teaching impressionist-style paint and lost-wax sculpture and piano by ear during teens and twenties, i thought a Great Art life was right there door open. But no way to monetize it, so no way to make the time investment committment at the heart of future creation (well, yes there WAS a way, but who wants to cut off an ear in a whorehouse and shoot oneself in the belly to get off the stage?).

Years pile up with work & family leaving no way back into it on the creative side, until too much time has passed in any event, one's message gets passed up by newer world moving along, and an art push too late is to add bathos to pathos. So the whole thing is just annoying to even think about.

Is that it?