tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248290.post9007337443877033193..comments2023-07-10T09:28:49.185-04:00Comments on Linguini on the Ceiling: Five random thoughts...Sisiggyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12187439975974001825noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248290.post-11316630467194920322012-09-23T08:50:18.850-04:002012-09-23T08:50:18.850-04:00It's always a delight to see your posts - I so...It's always a delight to see your posts - I so admire your gift of words - I just wish I'd been able to express myself as clearly as you did in point 4Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19248290.post-39371332741219156062012-09-19T20:45:38.108-04:002012-09-19T20:45:38.108-04:00I paint murals in my sleep. In reality, I have no ...I paint murals in my sleep. In reality, I have no experience painting murals, no drawing skills, and I'm terrible at painting walls. But in my dreams, I paint huge, wonderful murals full of curves and people's faces and primary colors. They're beautiful and I am very happy painting them. It's effortless and, despite being afraid of heights, in my dreams I have no trouble being up on high scaffolding or even painting my murals while seated on one of those swings that macho window cleaners use. <br /><br />During bad times, the murals become difficult to paint. The building is crumbling. I run out of paint or it's the wrong consistency. Sometimes the scaffolding isn't high enough to get to the area I need to paint next, or I swing on that seat-thing in a wide arc from side to side but I keep ending up in the wrong spot. Sometimes I drop my brush and it falls a long, long way down.<br /><br />This was meant to be a comment on your Reuben sandwich bullet point, in case you're wondering.ari_1965https://www.blogger.com/profile/00184925473746713999noreply@blogger.com