Been drawing some trouble these days. More on that later. * * * * * Walking home, heard from a top floor window, with a blanket instead of curtains You bastard. I lost my daughter for you. I lost my daughter for you. You bastard. which makes one look, and stop, and stand there in the darkness, waiting a minute to see if it gets worse. * * * * * Cleaned out my closet last night. Jesus. Some clothes too small, that's fine, I'm not that kind of hopeful, but a lot more just left to collect dust. Not doing that anymore. Amazing how a little anger can promote a lot of honesty.
Draw things, paint things, write things, make things.