Ain't no hope, cowboy

This photo most closely represents the job outlook for our architectural firm for 2010. I am a manic depressive personality these days, waiting for the inevitable. There is no hope. There will be no more jobs. We're done.

I have to say I am relieved in some ways. The specter of liability will stay hovering over my head for awhile, but even that will soon fade. Folks who sue you are interested in flesh. When there is no flesh, the carrion and their attorneys fly on to another distressed carcass.

My art will survive as long as I do. It's what I do. Architecture has just been a career, seen as a wide-eyed youngster eons ago with more emotion than sense. I suppose that is still my mantra, now as I trudge up the 18th fairway, over par but not wanting a DNF on the score card.

I dread the coming months of finishing/cleaning out/throwing away all the hopeless, meaningless flotsam that has piled up in miserable garret. I fear I just don't have the energy.

I am as down as one can get. Down.

Cold hearted orb

That rules the night
Removes the colors
From our sight
Red is gray and
Yellow white
But we decide
Which is right
And
Which is an Illusion

- Moody Blues