We spent 3 years making art and charging things to credit cards.
We occasionally picked weeds or painted houses or dug fence post holes to pay our minimums.
We made art and had parties then made more art then had more parties then ate some pancakes and bacon in the morning.
Every December we burned a giant golden bull and danced around it wearing costumes that made us look like gods and robots and monsters.
I usually stood on the roof of the shed making some kind of sermon.
"This bull is all your fears.
This bull wants to stop you from dancing.
This bull is all the things that keep you from being who you want to be.
This bull must die!"
Feels like its time to burn a bull again.