Maybe I am just obsessive. I keep at patinas. I am an official patina shop now. None satisfy me. Not really. Some are too thick. Some are too thin. Some, somewhere are just right. Must everything be a fairytale or myth? I think so. Even patinas. Holy grail. Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I cannot stop myself. I wake in the middle of the night. And I think of patinas. I have listened to conversations. When asked what I have been up to lately, I talk of patinas. I think I have only blogged about patinas. I saw the opening of Grendel last night. It took me back into the world of myth. And gave me motivation. It is the Julie Taymor opera of the hero myth from the perspective of the anti hero. And the anti hero, the monster was more the hero, sort of. It was a Jungian/greek theatre mishmash of myth and path. And I speak that language now. And see all as myth. And so I seek the holy grail of patinas. The combination of chocolate and peanut butter in one. And I go down paths, led by rumour. I hear it is hidden here. I hear that it is hidden there. It haunts my dreams. I am on the hero path to find it. It colors my adventure. It colors my work. I suit up. I let all else fall by the wayside. We assume the hero role to be noble. But I question that...