"I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods
Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees
Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away
The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness
That empty the heart..."

T. has an aversion to blogs.  The artist Mark Nolden is more encouraging, saying that they "mutate" which makes them interesting, that they start out as one thing and become another, and then stop.  Maybe they don't all stop.

To re-explain: I wrote a novel once about this character's search for (fill in the blank; Iris Murdoch said all novels are really about Love, so say it was the character's search for that, even if it wasn't) _____ and along the way what he finds out is Everything comes down in the end to a number, and if you know the magic number you have the answer, the key (As Naomi wrote to Allen, "the Key is in the window, the Key is in the sunlight in the window -- get married Allen, don't take drugs...").

I decided the number he finds is 1904, like the year.  It is his personal number (not a tattoo but you're close) It's also a year.  There.  That's what this is all about. 

And no, I'm not trying to start something, please.  I have put away the outcries and the bitterness.  Plus, the agent I had at the time retired. 

The novel "1904" is NOT for sale.  NFS.  It's far too litigious anyway.  There are lives at stake.  I've written other things since.  Ask me what.