I hate the inevitable sickness that the transition between seasons brings. I'm starting to realize that for all my middle-ground demeanour, I'm a man of absolutes. I like my Winter cold, my Spring fresh, my Summer hot, and my Autumn depressing. Or something. Depending on my mood.
The comics show is up at the gallery now. It's been very well-attended and well-received, so I am well-happy. It's encouraging to have something career-affirming like this show happening in the city. It's that little touch out outside justification that lets me drag through the grind and continue working towards something ethereal and altogether unattainable.
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