I didn't know what time it was when I awoke as MY POWER HAD BEEN OUT and I had no accurate clocks. I slept a long time, though. I just bound up a framed drawing to donate to the Artist Trust auction. Maybe they'll put my correct address in this year -- well, one may always hope. I remember when they started up -- specifically to address the health insurance issue in the artistic community. Like, we didn't have any, man. They never did anything, though, and I've always resented that. I am crazed over the whole health insurance issue -- my ex-husband, currently deceased, used to say there was healthcare for the poor, there really WAS -- he never had to receive any of that very bad healthcare through the agencies for the poor, however. First, it's bad, second, they treat you like you're a bad person which means you have to be very strong not to get beaten down further, and third, did I mention that it's not good treatment? It's not. "They" think you don't deserve it. Go ahead and argue with me -- but only if you've been treated under that evil system of punishment and humiliation. Hey! Let's all punish the weak, the sick, and the poor! Fun! That way we can show that WE AREN'T LIKE THEM! And, of course, they choose to be like that. So it's their fault. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I always growl at my students when they start doing something like, say, using their pastels to make strokes that don't go in the direction of the wood grain. I don't bite, though. I don't bite THEM, I mean. I might bite others, however.