Met with the comic group I belong to. We mostly just hung out, but the leader has started paginating the anthology book. Apparently paginating is a word.
After the meeting, I was so jazzed that I actually whipped up a little autobio comic on some printer paper. Every time I actually finish a hand-drawn comic I feel accomplished. It's starting a comic that's nerve-racking. Oh, what a terrible life we privileged middle class white people lead.
My friend Eric saw the website and liked some of the pieces, so I'm going to be doing a personalized drawing for him sometime soon. For money! I keep forgetting that other artists actually charge for their work. It seems so petty, but I do like food. Food costs money.
Oh, and Eric lent me the entire series of Cowboy Bebop. I haven't seen The Wire or The Sopranos, so I can honestly say that Cowboy Bebop is the best television show I've ever seen. It had been way too long since I'd seen it.
What else, what else... my mind is always churning with possibilities that I never actually fulfill. The other day, I wanted to see if I could get my dad's old camcorder to work and shoot some short films. Then I saw some thirteen-year-old on youtube who had published her own novel on Lulu. Now I want to write a novel.
It's not enough to dream. You have to actually do.
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I read this post aloud to E!!
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