My morning writing finds me sitting at my desk, surrounded by wadded up papers and half empty legal pads, in my flamingo muumuu, no socks, and uncombed hair. Middle of the day. Early Afternoon. Whipped Greek yogurt for breakfast. Green tea and woven wheat crackers for lunch. No war paint. No ornamental embellishments. It’s just me and my tools, and a messy head full of crazy dreams. Oh how we suffer for our art.