I figured out what was giving me these impatient, paranoid, sad reactions. Last Sunday night I figured I’d best do some thinking about what the fuck was ailing me when i spoke to my Boo last Saturday morning. The biggest thing was lack of sleep. I pulled an all-nighter, reading a 380 page journal that she’d sent me, and it got me crabby and disoriented. Added to that was a low dose of DXM I’d taken after Friday shift. DXM is one of those drugs that intensifies whatever mood you are feeling. I keep forgetting that. I also fell-off the self-satisfaction wagon for about a week, for some reason, so I was putting a lot of the responsibility for my happiness onto her, which I’m very sorry for. I’ve prescribed myself peaceful classical-music tracks and deep-breathing, so I can stay mindful. It’s a bit embarrassing. I’m the one that is supposed to be giving advice on how to be happy, and I went and let the basics slip away from me.
I REALLY don’t want to fuck this up. It won’t kill me or anything, but the both of us had pretty much given up on the idea of love/romance in our lives, prior to this rekindling of spirits, so if this doesn’t work, I don’t want it to be because I forgot how to not be an idiot.
I grew up trying to draw comic books. My father collected Marvels and DC's but my uncle collected undergrounds. This was back in the 70's, so I was reading things that reached back into the 50's. In the early 90's Caliber Press published a series of mine called Tad Martin.|
I went to school to learn how to draw, only to discover they couldn't teach me. I didn't really learn how to draw to suit myself until I was 40.
I try to work with images that people might find disturbing, simply because that's what I would like to see in art that I am attracted to.
Current Residence: Monster Island TX
Favourite genre of music: New Wave
Favourite cartoon character: Superjail's Alice