Fascinating recognition, thanks to a much-needed convo with a great friend: that part of my present creative problem is that, while I want and need to move on to different moods and forms, the inputs – life swirling, doing its thing –, the toxic waters that are gurgling into my well, are holding me in the same soul-sucking patterns of the last 14 years. Shaking things up is the only way out / through – trick being to figure out what, exactly, to shake: while I’d rather pursue requisite shaking with surgical precision for now, I do accept that “scorched earth everything” might become unavoidable.