Tailors

Paid a visit to the tailor's and ran up a bill...

Four and twenty tailors went to kill a snail,
The best man among them durst not touch her tail.
She put out her horns like a little Kyloe cow,
Run tailors, run, or she'll kill you all e'en now.

Upcoming Exhibition

While chatting with Enjah yesterday, I complained that for all my work representing artists in China, I had precious little opportunity to make use of my own talents. She reminded me that she had offered to give me a show at her gallery in Grignano, and so we decided to make it happen the weekend after next. Therefore friends, if you are able to attend you will be most welcome at Young Geoffrion's premier art exhibition in Second Life. Even now I am not certain what shall be exhibited, but I have at least fifteen paintings and may make a few extra goodies for the show.
I do hope it will be an opportunity to renew my acquaintance with many old friends, and celebrate our continued common existence in this hoariest of virtual worlds.

Meeting Brillig

I became reacquainted with Brillig Boomslang yesterday, and during a lovely conversation about the nature of reality and Buddhism, I discovered that he had lived in Beijing for four years, for a while within a few hundred yards of where I have been living over the past month. This intelligent automaton has studied literature, philosophy and psychology and now manages the creation of instructions for other automated machinery. He complained to me of some trouble being accepted into the Legacies 1891 Role Play society, apparently not on account of his mechanical construction but because of his sartorial sparseness, however his last message to me reported that he was attending their mandatory lecture, so one may assume he is now well on his way to becoming a full member of society. Well, they do enjoy playing Victorian bloodsucking bourgeois; one might expect a certain degree of prudery.

To bed! To bed!

"A friend is, as it were, a second self",
Quoth Cicero, and I add, a third and fourth,
As many selves as friends, each one more glorious than the first,
(Diminished by travelling alone, longing for companionship)
As craves the night for dawn and the ship for shore does thirst.

I haul my old bones home, and leave the weary road ahead,
And shall call upon you all in time, but now
To bed! to bed!