The world is on fire. For those moments that I need some reprieve from the flames I’ll have my wife’s roses.
NO SLEEP FOR RAPTORS
There is no flavor better than a meal earned by predatory prowess. The finest meal I’ve ever had was the one I paid far too much for reveling in the pain of a strained lower back and battered wrist from a long weekend of selling my work to every beating heart that walked past. I have enjoyed the extra time with my family lately and moments available to appreciate what I’ve worked for but I am eager for the next convention. It is an intoxicating breakdown of my spine as I slowly water and grow the clump of cash in my pocket that kneads a bruise where it presses between my leg and the ergonomically torturous convention chairs. It is the only precursor to the most excellent of meals.
Slade: Kin to the Monsters
The constant toiling and efforts are hard to appreciate when each endeavor is paced so far apart. I love my job and I love to create new things but the timeline from beginning to end it is often hard to align my attention correctly. Patience must be at least half of this game. I am drawing in an endless stream of ideas with only the occasional patron deciding to take one for their own. But even once I can translate an idea from paper to skin, it may be another year before I get to cross the finish line.
I’m thankful for the restless people like Slade who have no patience for unfinished work and allow me to run wild and fast.
Marathon
It has begun.
Time has come back around. Django Reinhardt plays on the digital radio as the steam from the electric rice cooker permeates the room with the sweet scent of progress.
Perched at the head of the roaring twenties, I am ready to do more of these. We finished this piece in one long day with determination to leave crispy lines and bold colors wherever I can put them.
