the joy of painting

I haven't been able to sleep well in the past week or so. it's okay to go on little or no sleep for two or 3 days, but then I get cranky and start hallucinating from the inability to tell my brain to stfu and just get some rest. it's a bit like mental constipation. dreaming is like flushing one's mental toilet, after all...

so, whenever the going gets tough, there's a few little things I can rely on as a last resort to get thawed out, relax some and drift off into morpheus' arms. I usually start on a good dinner, a sixpack of beers, light a cigar and have a few tumblers of laphroaig and when I'm good and pissed and it's something like 1 am, there'll be a channel that has bob ross on painting the crap outta some canvas. for those poor souls who've never seen his '80ies show: he's this bloke with a deep soothing voice, afro 'do, full beard and he paints those incredibly kitchy landscapes that'll make you wish you chucked more acid when you were a kiddo.

the joy of painting. bob ross, if you're out there somewhere and you read this: you put me right to sleep and I really appreciate it.