big dreams and shallow feelings

I'm dreaming big tonight while I hash out the nitty gritty details,
one of my favorite combinations of extremes, head in the clouds, feet
on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream (as fiona apple puts it
so eloquently)

I mean my book empire I'm building/assembling from the dregs of my father's business.
I'm picturing an organization that hires a combination of seasonal Evergreen students and young parents (yeah!), operates out of a warehouse in downtown Olympia in tandem with Last Word Books and Earthlight Books. I mean, let's not split any hairs here, I've got two fully functioning bookstores, three online businesses, a succesful alternative parenting blog, an organic book farm, a sailboat, four printing presses and several none-too-humble dreams. Let's get a radio show and shoot for the goddamn stars. My aspirations might seem larger than my self and that's because they definitely are. But I fully intend on carrying this vision through to it's penultimate conclusions, if there are any. In a few years we will kickstart the bookmobile project and take this shit on the road around the country and down into South America. I don't want to make gobs of money... well, actually, yes, I do, but I fully intend on spending every cent of it on the next rung of the ladder. Any succesful business spends a great deal of time with their economics hovering right around zero 'cause everything's tied up in the projects. By the time I get these various balls rolling (no sexual puns intended, but then again, puns aren't supposed to be intended, then they're not puns) my girls will be able to alphabetize and won't yet be of the age that I have to pay them a decent wage... hee hee hee... gears turn, wine is imbibed, futures are foreseen.

So... if any of you dear readers have any literary connections or dreams in collusion (yes, some of my dreams are illegal and deceitful in that I want to pull the wool over the eyes of the system that keeps so many young parents locked into a world in which they don't belong... thusly... if you are at all interested in these ideas of literary oceanic empires, message me with your thoughts on the matter, think of them as auditions of sorts, even though the performance is still years down the line.

In other matters, my heart wraps itself around other hearts while theirs wrap 'round mine... explosive tendencies, unpredictable outcomes. danger danger. crazy crazy. wine over a fish called wanda, some scattered words over the telephone I hope do as much good as I put into them. What else can we really hope for?