im struck again by the title to this blog.

and im realizing… again… that the answer is


im not. not yet.

i got to thinking about my blog earlier today. and how much it means to me. or for that matter, how deeply connected i am with most of the things i write. i am not the caliber of person who can crank out 300 words that will tear at your being and speak to your soul… unless im going through something. im no great writer…. but i dont have to be.

for you see, to me – writing is my art.

i may never paint a chapel. or create something as priceless as monet. my works may never be displayed in the guggenheim… i may never have a mona lisa… but this… right here. is who i am. and if we – on this earth – are all artists of sorts…

then the question i am left with tonite…

what mark am i leaving?

what i want – for the moment – is inconsequential.

for this moment….

i need to be dipped again, in the blood of the Lamb