Why can't drawing be as easy as writing?

    I probably shouldn't be surprised.  I've been writing for the last 20 years (two-thirds) of my life.  During that time I've produced maybe about 1% as much visual art.  Oh well, practice practice practice...  Maybe one day I'll be able to get drunk and draw even better than I do sober.
    Not that I write better after a few drinks... I just write about different things.  It's just that I've been writing for so long, I don't need to think clearly to do it.  Hell, I could probably write in my sleep if you put a keyboard under my hands.  Hmmm.... there's a thought.  I could call it RFM (Rapid Finger Movement)
    Yeah, I've been drinking a bit.  A did her usual drink heavily/pass-out early routine.  So in retribution, I'm using her computer to gripe anonymously about her online.  I generally try to keep my current relationship issues away from here, but I'm bitter and needed to vent.  Sometimes I wish I could play these stupid relationship games.
    I guess that's not quite true.  I can play the games when I want to, but that's all they are to me: games.  It's all too often that A and I are arguing and it devolves into this verbal duel over who's right and who's wrong, never mind whatever it was that we were arguing about in the beginning.  And inevitably I just make it worse by not taking it seriously enough.


Okay, that's enough griping.  Dreams!

    I was one of four archaeologists, exploring some kind of huge underground temple.  We were all completely kitted out with tools, weapons and body armor.  I wasn't sure at first what they expected ust to need body armor and weapons for, but as I entered a great hall, one of the massive stone pillars nearby suddenly broke at the base and tipped toward me.
    I was barely able to dive out of the way... directly into the path of another broken and falling stone pillar.  At the last second one of my team was able to pulle me out of the way before I saw fully crushed under the weight of all that stone.
    We looked ahead uncertainly at the dozens of grey stone piillars that filled the hall.  Another of my collegues shrugged and aimed a grenade launcher at the nearest pillars.  before I could stop him, he fired several shots off.
    "Some of those might actually be holding up the ceiling!" I shouted at him as all the nearby pillars toppled.  From the massive stone blocks that fell down from the roof of the hall with them, I could tell I was right.  The entire chamber was caving in.
    I and the other three teammembers quicklly secured our helmets and huddled in an alcove as stone and earth rained down on the tomb.  As sunlight began to spill down from above, I realized from the direction we'd been traveling that we were almost certainly underneath a populated area.  Dragging one of the other archaeologists behind me, I ran in the direction of the collapse.  We had to help the civilians as roads and foundations collapsed beneath them.  Then I woke up.
    Unfortunately, I never got the chance to help anybody.