I survived. My car survived. The cardboard submarine got a few knocks. I am still talking to the Wobbly. I have a fistful of cash (not as much as I spent, but whose counting?) and a box of business cards and zines to go through. And Taxes still loom.
I feel like I just got home from camp and the weight of unadorned reality hangs like an ugly burlap sack.
I guess its not that bad. Fortunately work has been crunching so hard I don't have any time to feel sorry for myself. I am taking a break from drawing my favorite model. I bought three sketchbooks and one zine over the weekend and I am breaking in one of the sketchbooks. The model has wonderful feet, and she likes to stand on the cement so I can drink in every single tendon and callus. I also sold a bunch of comix to my fellow drawers. They used to purchase out of pity, but now they are stocking up for boyfriends and children. It was similar at APE, most of my sales were to fellow exhibitors (and friends).