three in the morning productions

forests and the fantastic

I sincerely hope you are smiling today.

Why yes. Yes, now I am. And the skeptic in me certainly finds it objectionable how such little things have me biting at my lip in a smile and casting my eyes to the ground.

And suddenly everyone wants to take pictures of Kareen. Because we know how much I love to be the subject of the camera's gracious captures. On today's Sunday stroll in the park we were yet again elves frolicking through the woods of Lorien. Cass, the half-elf ranger weaving nimbly through the thickets, letting only rare glimpses of her streaming hair. Marg, of ambigious elf and orc-kind silently and leisurely plodding behind. Karn, the elven princess with sunspun hair, singing and making love to the trees. And I wondered, how much longer can we hold onto our youths? Is this the year that we shall reminisce of in our inevitable later years? It's a moment, fleeting and sweet, when I'm content with everything in me. And when it has passed, what ensues is not fear, but a pervading sadness.

This week, I shall throw myself into academics and other projects. Starting with the sketchbook that's due tomorrow.

01.26.03 - 7:07 p.m.

	forests and the fantastic I sincerely hope you are smiling today. Why yes. Yes, now I am. And the skeptic in me certainly finds it objectionable how such little things have me biting at my lip in a smile and casting my eyes to the ground. And suddenly everyone wants to take pictures of Kareen. Because we know how much I love to be the subject of the camera's gracious captures. On today's Sunday stroll in the park we were yet again elves frolicking through the woods of Lorien. Cass, the half-elf ranger weaving nimbly through the thickets, letting only rare glimpses of her streaming hair. Marg, of ambigious elf and orc-kind silently and leisurely plodding behind. Karn, the elven princess with sunspun hair, singing and making love to the trees. And I wondered, how much longer can we hold onto our youths? Is this the year that we shall reminisce of in our inevitable later years? It's a moment, fleeting and sweet, when I'm content with everything in me. And when it has passed, what ensues is not fear, but a pervading sadness. This week, I shall throw myself into academics and other projects. Starting with the sketchbook that's due tomorrow. 01.26.03 - 7:07 p.m.