So you may (or may not) have noticed I’m posting again. I’m actually working in web design again after what seems like forever, and I’m spending a lot more time working online. I also haven’t had a lot of time to write anything, so I began to feel a bit atrophied, intellectually and creatively. I feel like I’m starting to open up again now, with the work I’m doing on Ziraxia. We’re shooting to launch the pilot program this Wednesday. If you’re reading this, you should keep an eye out. It’s going to be fun and cool, and hopefully successful, so I can continue to work on it.

I’ve been having these dreams of an old woman. Her skin is dry and dusty, and precisely the color of mice feet. Her hair is unkempt, long and surprisingly thick for her age. It hangs like sheets of granite, shot through with calcite veins. She sits in a faded burgundy velvet chair, in a dress that is so faded and worn that it has become colorless. She never speaks, or rather, she has not spoken yet. Every dream I’ve had has been pregnant with the waiting. The possibility of speech is almost stifling. Maybe she’ll talk to me soon.