Events continue apace.
Basic situ remains: top-tier law degree with good grades, many years on the stage, good conservatory degree, and presently slogging through gulag-level existence, ships and bridges equally razed, in the heart of the first world. Had carved out a few roundabout paths back to civilization, but those seem to have come a cropper in the last few days.
So.
Gleaning the things that I need for the next project from the research library, the sorts of things I couldn't find elsewhere. In the scheme of things, I will concede that this might be illogical, but my logic has it that (1) I hope to accomplish this work; (2) I will need these materials specifically; (3) they're in walking distance.
It also allows me to fix the mind on the quest. Always useful. Any quest will do.
Radical discipline is the only way forward. In a very literal sense -- if your mind isn't focused, you will stop walking forward in the cold.
The level of text production seems to have dropped off since my return stateside, for obvious reasons. Will work to get those engines back and running. When your life seems to be governed by dark-side logics, putting as much of your own λογοσ out there as possible becomes a form of tactical response.
Vade, liber.