I’m indebted to the artist who put this up in my neighborhood. The gritted teeth, the grim expression — it’s like that, yeah.
You want your writing to process, like with Pomp and Circumstance and fancy outfits. But sometimes what you get is more like processed, as in meat, and you’re trying to assemble ill-favored scraps into something appetizing.
In other news, I’ve just changed web hosts, and a few things seem to have gone missing in the transition. If you’re looking for something on sararyan.com and you can’t find it, please to let me know.