Harold Williams Cooney

Fervent belief in the basic vocational promise of progress and productivity is a requirement to wake up happy in my life as a struggling craftsman.

I am a hippie wook bead craftsman. My skillset derivative of the Degenerate Arts, and while faith in these obscure processes is good to have, over the decades it has been the traditional stoic cudgels of coffee, cigarettes, and marijuana that has really gotten me moving in the morning.

I was up to 2 o’clock posting listings to Etsy, and it was a grand time. I thoroughly cured the meat of my human form with smoke and caffeine.

The correct combination of inspiration as a craftsman and chemical addiction as an idiot allows me to leap into action each morning. Allegedly.

It’s gonna take some time to explain, but it’s pretty basic anyway. I have a large amount of unsold work and no money.

I haven’t been in a position to list on Etsy for several years, and now I’m in a corner where Etsy is both the only way out and the same respectable, reasonable, reachable solution towards my hopes it has always been.

And so yeah, it’s two thirty in the morning again. My whole Tuesday listing beads to Etsy, the same as Monday.

The pile of work I have has taken a serious dent, and if I work at it, I can be done with the most obvious of it tomorrow night. Probably 2 in the morning.

And I’m sure that I’ll be a smoked brosket then as I am now.