Why is there a park ethereal?

Why the park? That's a good question. I've been writing, doodling and thinking about the story that is park ethereal for many years now. I've always felt that it was something more than text, and something more varied. I've felt that it touches on most everything I've done, and as the years pass it seems more and more like home- a place where all the projects and belongings (as George Carlin would say, all my stuff) come to rest, filed or carelessly tossed.

Some of the material in the park I believe to be fairly good. Some, I'm aware, is quite bad. However, I can't bring myself to cull the 'writings' folder. Just because I think something I've written is bad is no reason to destroy it; read again, it can teach me what not to do. As a result, I have an assortment of text and imagery, of varying quality.

The Web allows even fairly shy geeks like myself to be extroverts. Not only extroverts; it allows us to consider ourselves artists. That's what I'm doing here. I couldn't handle the thought of all the time and energy and emotion poured into these stories and vignettes living secretly inside a computer, only brought out for select friends and my own perusal. You may like it. You may hate it. But most important, you may read it; and that's what writing is usually for. Some things that I have that are too private, whose creation was purely an act of purging and externalizing, remain safely locked away, unable to play in the park. But some of those pieces, eventually, find their way in, with names changed to protect the guilty, or removed entirely.

Do you have a place where your thoughts live? Embrace the web. Find that part of it which is possible to display, and invite us all inside to curiously nose around. Some may be rude. Many, I hope, will be polite, interested, and perhaps one out of a thousand might want to talk about it.

That's why.

There's no better reason.

-The Custodian