Process interrupted

Not entirely, but...
I have stopped posting any visual work progress. Happening now, aside from major digressions, are odd bits of employment, theater set painting, travel, and coping with long postponed tasks. It all leaves tiny little mini gaps for a series of furtive, hesitant, tentative explorations on paper, repair and maintenance of older pieces and art materials, and writing. Writing is at a stage where my painting often arrives at. The task has grown to meet to meet the expectations that have arisen from within the the monstrous thing that I am creating. The process has created possibilities that were not included in my original intentions.
The piece that I am writing now has wavered between short story, long short story, novella, and beyond. Each form seems to require different development and structures in its detail, so I have parallel versions of this piece uncomfortably nesting together in one file. Parallel versions, reflections perhaps of how my incarnate being (mal-?) functions. It's a parallel universe arisen, first on a whim, growing like a cancer (:o) in my psyche, interrupting normal drowsy day-dreams, merging with "real" memories, demanding fulfillment, wholeness, and realization. Poor little thing.
I posted possible opening under working title of "Panic in Islington" on the "Further Issues " site.