Sometimes this heavy cloak drops over us, makes it harder to do everything. Sometimes it’s easy to pinpoint where the darkness comes from. Rejection, isolation, loneliness. Dark things outside Today, for me, it’s an accumulation of things. The boarded up windows on shopfronts in Pioneer Square. The homeless camps that are spreading out from the ferry dock, tents lining the elevated walkway. Knowing it’s getting worse for them. Dark things inside. It’s also the narrative that

I drank too much. Like many people, when I’m nervous, I drink. Just like on opening night of Dry Your Tears at Stur Gallery. If you popped in and I blithered at you, please forgive my nervy, rambunctious, crazed-faced bewilderment. In the fog of booze, I did have a little eureka moment. Standing there, I was surrounded by all these deeply personal experiences from my childhood, acted out by little toys, dolls and teddy bears. I always thought they were my stories – my feeling