and the counterrevolution was called christmas




The kid likes to draw. And the faces all have smiles, which is disproportionately encouraging. Not sure about the upside-down guy, though. Or the manic-faced little red-skull guy. Slouching.

She is certainly a teaser and trickster, which is aggravating when I find rocks in my shoes, or she runs water instead of washing her hands, or she hides the belt to my bathrobe (again).

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And still the Dream of the Princesses.


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Seven paintings in two group shows right now, GRID and at Studio 22. Between that and Christmas vending and a million other things: tired. And tired of just being a Dead Idea Factory, so *trying* to take the time to develop some longer projects, narratives. Or maybe just more Grand Theft Auto.

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A stocking stuffer for people who don't like stocking stuffers. Or life.

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Wee Dark All Day interview the other day. Started out getting the title of my book wrong, which I gleefully spiked.

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Some last few things in the shop and then just leaving letting it be sleepy for awhile. Next week is pretty much it for ordering things online anyway. Came up quickly, eh? Can you feel the goodwill and cheer, the way it attacks your immune system, and weakens your bones?

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