Hunting Sounds

It's a strange fight between the wall of sleep and the tidal wave of words that I keep fighting. One a soft and tempting darkness the other a claxon call for communication with the outside world. I fight both with about as much strength as a doped up amoeba.
I was reminded that I don't write much of late. I could spew quite a few profanities for that reminder, but I'll play nice for now. I'm too bloody tired.
I made the ultimately brilliant decision to work not one job but two. 70 plus hours a week takes it out of you after a bit and I'm fairly certain I'm going to go completely maaaaaaaddd by the time this is all over. If I haven't already jumped that bridge and maybe squished on over to the next one into complete insamity.
You get the Cliff's Notes version of the past few weeks. Quizzicle tomorrow kids, grab your fruit scented markers.

Waterbeds and I should never attempt to tango. I have a waterbed. I don't want waterbed. St Vincent DU Paul says they will take it away as long as I drain the mattress.
Things just kind of went downhill from there. Ending with bits of chopped up hose, a knife slashed mattress and several trips outside with a wet/dry vac.
Stop snickering, it worked didn't it?
Of course then St Vincents failed to mention that I had to break down the waterbed as well. It's a lucky thing I can't find my ax. I would have shown them a new and illuminating meaning to "breaking down"

Festival is here. I am usually there or at work. For the uninformed heathens who don't know the intimate details of my life.. I have traveled with the Renaissance Festival for the past 9 years of my life, all over the country in various states of disarray. This is probably the longest I've been in AZ since I left when I was 19. Hence my madness. I'm now roving between festival and work in Scottsdale everyday. Yes, I am in fact a brilliant monkey. Sleep is for the weak. Hence this rambling entry. I had a thread I swear. Stupid neurons.

Valentine's day was not very Valentiney. I didn't even get the crack laced hearts with the sappy quips on them. Those are my favorites.
Bah. I expect too much.
I think I might be a little bitter. That surprises who?

I've been spending many nights in the desert listening to her voice. Coyotes. Wind. Rustling. CLicking. Cooing. Tapping.
She has a lovely voice.

There is this strange complex relationship between us all that constantly astounds me. I look at the webs we weave with conversations, interactions,interpretations.. linking where we would never have expected to find a connection. Breaking where it appeared the joining was strongest, or crossing where it was never expected. Web upon web with our own tiny spirals of life.. one to another to another. And you can never step back far enough to see the whole complexity because it just keeps growing and growing.
Fate, or God, or Gods or whatever you want to call it.
Amazing.

I've realized that I am happiest when being a creator. I have a tiny fear that maybe I have a God Complex or something.. but, I just love being able to form something out of raw material. Be it music, or a musical instrument from bare wood, painting, my chainmail from a pile of rings to a full belt, a mural, some stupid random art project. I'm just.. happiest when knee deep in the act of creation.

Hello my name is Shannon and I write entries with absolutely no theme.

Goodnight sweetness.. goodnight.