It has been a while since my last blog on this page, what with the constant interruptions from surgeons and therapists, but I have managed to escape their studied attentions long enough to write this short note, and with any luck they will be unable to break down the barrier I have built behind the studio door - at least for a few minutes or so. Persistent buggers, they be.

I have posted a new story, which can be found in 'New Additions,' and was inspired by my time at the Dr. Baumstark Klinik, in Bad Homburg, in October, following the first surgery to repair my impaired mobility. If curiosity drives one to pursue the details of the rigors involved, feel free to do so by reading the blog at: http://www.myspace.com/kristophe_johansson. It was the worst of times, it was the worst still of times, but, I digress.

The story, 'The Promise,' was written after experiencing the visage of an older man, whose face seemed to hold no promise, in the face of his experience. It saddened me greatly to see it, and after sharing it with a boy of 19, and then a writer who has just reached his 80th year, their confirmation of its truth reassured me of the purpose for which I wrote this short story. It is an unavoidable truth which, with good fortune, all must face, at some point.

Because of my seven weeks of hospitalization, and rehab - to which I am about to return for another four weeks, the printing process has been on hold, for 'Impaired Ocular Acuity...' I hope to have it continue, in my absence, and be ready for release by the first of the year. Bless you all for your patience.

If I am unable to send out suitable greetings for the holidays, due to my confinement among they who wear the white coats and uniforms, then let me wish you, one and all, the best and happiest of holidays. Do remember that the best gift is the gift of love and attention, and all will succumb to their beauty. Trust me.

KJ