Litterature

Had a birthday celebration last night. It was nice to get out in the mild, clear weather and stumble around the neighborhood in a reasonably drunken stupor. I've been out of practice in the drinking game, so when shots started showing up I got a little nervous. I handled my intoxication with a reserved aplomb, I thought. We went and watched Quay do the sketch comedy at the Graduate, then parlayed to my house to socialize on the porch. First porch party of the season, a rousing success.

I'm supposed to move in with Ryan, but we're having trouble finding a place that suits us both. I really love my house, so naturally I'm having second, third, fourth and fifth thoughts. There's not enough room at my place for Ryan's stuff, and he doesn't care to live with roommates (truth be told I wouldn't, either, as a couple). The whole thing is too much stress at a bad time, and too much money diverted away from immediate needs like art supplies.

I showed off the first 12 pages of my comic Art the Amoeba last night, which I plan to shop to publishers once the first one is in the can. Reactions were uniformly positive, but these are my friends, so I am inclined to doubt their objectivity. Still, it's the best work I think I've done, and I'm pretty happy with it. It's fairly different from anything else coming out, so that's an advantage. Then again it might be too weird to find an audience. I don't know. I'm just going to do the fucking thing and send it off and what happens happens. All I can do is my best. If that's not enough, then what is?

I guess I could be nice and show some of you guys what I'm talking about, eh? I usually just show this stuff to my comic buddies to get feedback, but I can toss you other pals o' mine a sop, I s'pose. Here's the cover, plus the first five pages of Art the Amoeba #1.( Have a look, won't you? )

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