Wow!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
what my heart looks like.
The below is an older drawing completed for a book project wherein a bunch of artists submit drawings entitled "what my heart looks like".
at last.
1 down! (click on image to see full size cover page)
ahem.
now only 31 to go. And France in FIVE days!
ahem.
now only 31 to go. And France in FIVE days!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Well, just one more then.
Blogging silence hereby rescinded for a small report on my surreal life in the world of news broadcasting.
Yesterday morning I show up for work, 3(gulp)45 in the am, take myself and my security card to those infamous slide-open London Underground style doors, and swipe the card.
Nothing.
Swipe again.
Nothing.
Try the other one.
Nothing.
Walk back to the security desk. Of course there is NOONE around. Look down hall to huge gaping building, there is one janitor mopping an elevator.
Noone.
I go back to the security doors and swipety swipe, STILL nothing.
I walk back and forth for a moment, imagining of course the pending doom when 4.15am production meeting comes and I am not upstairs. I wander back to the security desk.
SUDDENLY, the handicapped door swings open.
I swiped nothing, no one arrived, the door just opened.
There was a significant moment as I raced towards it, imagining it would close before I got there and inside.
All these years and here I thought Kafka was writing fiction.
Yesterday morning I show up for work, 3(gulp)45 in the am, take myself and my security card to those infamous slide-open London Underground style doors, and swipe the card.
Nothing.
Swipe again.
Nothing.
Try the other one.
Nothing.
Walk back to the security desk. Of course there is NOONE around. Look down hall to huge gaping building, there is one janitor mopping an elevator.
Noone.
I go back to the security doors and swipety swipe, STILL nothing.
I walk back and forth for a moment, imagining of course the pending doom when 4.15am production meeting comes and I am not upstairs. I wander back to the security desk.
SUDDENLY, the handicapped door swings open.
I swiped nothing, no one arrived, the door just opened.
There was a significant moment as I raced towards it, imagining it would close before I got there and inside.
All these years and here I thought Kafka was writing fiction.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
on blogging, or rather, not.
I'm going to France in 10 (TEN!) days and the preparations are manifold. So alas, I will be respiting (officially now) from this blog, at least 'til i get back...dear loyal reader(s), i know you are many and this is disappointing news. But just think, FRANCE! COMIC BOOKS! How could me alone in my living room with my blog ever compare.
WOOOO!!!
WOOOO!!!
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
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