My last post was more of a whimper than a moan. Do I owe apologies for that? Only to me. I suppose I could make excuses, like 'Maybe I wasn't talking about boredom, rather depression, and you know my serotonin supply just wasn't reaching my brain (a regular thing)'. But what the hell, it's another day and I'm getting back to the grind again, and I figure it really is time I got my house sorted and got back to the drawing board. Literally, perhaps.
I was talking about sleeping giants in the last post. Giants of the unconscious, unfulfilled potential. Occasionally we fulfil that potential. Here's a giant I drew a long time ago. I was into comics big time then. Anyway, now a smaller version of it's become a home-made, home-burned CD compilation cover. I like to draw. It's a kind of meditation. Meditation is just 'being'. And it reminds me I'm alive. I should do more of it.
Living is cool.
OK, just let me finish the laundry. Then I'll see what I can do. Meanwhile, here he is.