Cold pizza and tundra

I am sitting in the sun eating cold pizza and drinking coffee. I have temporarily escaped the Wisco. tundra* to luxuriate in the warmth of Phoenix. The pool is in the foreground, an orange tree's to my right, and a palm tree is to my left.

Rejecting excuses is the motivating force behind this blog. I have been on this planet for 32 years. In medieval Britain, I would be dead or within goosing distance of the Grim Reaper. So no more excuses (e.g., lack of inspiration, vagaries of publishing industry) about why I can't write. In the eloquent words of my forebears: Shit or get off the pot.

I want this blog to be a forum for discussion and a method for encouraging me to write every day. I'll cover art, politics, literature, history, cooking, fashion, yoga, health, music, film, and basically whatever pops into my cranium.

*I know. I know. It's not true tundra, but the term is a great shorthand for the climate. I mean, c'mon. It feels like tundra after a few weeks of sporting long underwear.