Posting writing like this is a little suspicious. What else would I do though? Work on something until I thought it was good enough?

When is it "good" "enough?"

The only solution I come back to is:

Any obsessively repeated activity can become a source of -- something. I really believe that.

Yesterday I was trying to conjure a collaboration. I'm lonely. I'm still without my sangha. I look at the surrealists because they were a group. They were in it together.

With a generosity remarkable in the face of the deprivations they all faced, the group devised a way to raise money for the neediest among them through a kind of benefit art auction. ... They also managed to earn a little money by making a candy called Croque-Fruits, a sweet paste made of almonds, dates, nuts, and whatever fruits were coming into Marseilles from Tangier. Distributed for sale to local pâtisseries and movie houses, where candy was otherwise completely unavailable, Croque-Fruits were hand-made in a kind of cooperative venture by the artists and intellectuals grouped around Air-Bel, together with others who found themelves waiting in Marseilles, destitute and hungry.

Janet A. Kaplan,
Remedios Varo, Unexpected Journeys

When I actually meet intellectuals I freak out, but I could manage to help some people make some candy. And guess what, we are destitute and hungry in a twisted way.

Key:

Blue Writers
Poem Alley
Remedios and Leonora
Nederland Dans Theater III (NDTIII) (Great Performances - Can't Stop Now)

What the hell is wrong with my dog tonight?