Nicholas

Date: Fri, 31 May 1996 19:13:51 -0400
From: Nicholas Scott 
Organization: The Object Group
To: clburke@passport.ca
Subject: "smoke" link is broken.

I don't know why but it made me feel better to hear that you were not doing so well. Don't misinterpret. I took no pleasure in your pain. I guess it was nice to hear that I'm not the only one. I'm feeling trapped tonight. I am tired and *must* go and have dinner with a friend who is in town... only for the weekend.

Then on Saturday I *must* clean up my studio so that I may entertain my father, my step-mother, her son and his wife on Saturday night... who are again just passing thru.

I *must* plan a menu that will satisfy them all (she doesn't like spicy food), he doesn't like Asian food... which is about all I am interested in cooking (if I cook shrimp I must baby them... don't want to overcook)

No Asian, no spicy means no Thai, No Way!!!!

Shit... that's all I wanna cook.

Why am I writing? I dunno. I guess I owe you a few. I'd probably emulate you but my narcissism inhibitor won't let me.

[Light smoke]
[Pours Drambuie]

Hmmm... a new perspective through the miracle of drugs.

It is odd... I guess I've been reading your diaries more or less continuously for about a year... yet I have no picture of you... well actually I did see your picture in the Star? I was speaking metaphorically... no clear idea of who you are... although you reveal much... some of it in code.

There is an essential honesty... which is either self absorbtion, or the natural self absorbtion that exists in diaries. I've never kept one... I wrote a few pages once... re-read them... could not believe how petty my professional world was... and stopped. It was a little scary I think.

7:03... *must* be at the restaurant be 8PM... therefore *must* hop in the shower soon... what shall I wear? Not summerized yet. Hardly even sprung.

Will wear winter clothes I think. Feels cool coming in from the window.
Could use another drambuie but it is all gone. Port?

Do you know anyone who cruises on good looks and charm and has convinced themselves that they are doing something useful with their life... perhaps convinced themselves that they are an artist? It is easy in Canada. Government hand outs for mediocre talents. Tons of them. How many true artists have there been in the last century?

Far less than the census reports I am sure.

Delusions. I wonder how many I have.

And now I *must* go.