A few months ago and I started to get a bit of a tremor in my right hand. At first it was just a little bit every now and then but over time it got more regular, till it was every 20 minutes or so. It was basically a few seconds of shaking and numbness during which time I wouldn’t be able to do anything with it. At first I just assumed it would go away. But it didn’t. Then after a bit I started to worry about it and eventually I went to the doctor – the doctor sent me to a specialist – the specialist told me he was more or less a 100% sure that it was the MS. I found out a little while since that he was right. It was the MS. It's the MS. I’ve got the MS. Fuckin A.
Since it all started, I’ve gone through a variety of different reactions to it all - at first I was blasé about the whoel thing, then I got worried, then I got angry – I was angry when I started this blogfor instance and I wasn’t even sure I had it then. Now that I am sure, I’m stil fucking angry don’t get me wrong but there’s more to it than that.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a cartoonist. I loved comics. I would eat anything from 2000AD to the Beano. And I worship Alan Moore and Watchmen and Tex Avery and when I was a kid, I wanted to do that. I was good at it too and I used to doodle and draw and paint all the time. Then I went to art college and dropped out after a year cos I was too lazy. I was a fucking arse. That’s the biggest regret of my life dropping out of art school.
Anyway so then – this is turning into my life story but there is a point, honest - hopefully – I spent a couple of years doing not very much then I got offered a job to paint something on an advert. I thought I’d made it and would be in Hollywood within 2 years devising artwork with Darren Aronofsky. But the job turned out to be more painting and decorating than painting art, but I did it anyway and I got paid and then I spent the next 6 years working my up the art department ladder. Now I employ people to do most of the painting for me. I work stupid long hours and I make a shitload of money. I work with a lot of people I don’t really like but I think they might actually be better people than me. happier for sure.
When I got the shimmy shimmy shakes for the first time, or when I realised it wasn’t going to go away I thought – ‘Fuck. I’m going to lose the use of my right hand’. And what really bothered me about that was not that I’d lose the ability to do my job or that I’d have to learn to wank with my left hand but that I’d never be able to go back to doing art. I’d never be a cartoonist. And I didn’t even know I still had that in the back of my head. But I obviously did. I was surprised. and pretty pleased in general.
So now I’m thinking that I really want to give it a bash. I’ve always loved drawing and painting and making things. And I always will. But I might not always be able to. So I made the decision to start again a couple of weeks ago. It became concrete during the weekend that Stand I took lots of MDMA. I even wrote down a promise to myself. Then I promptly did nothing about it.
Then I found out about my brainberry.
Basically I’ve got something in my brain that’s not supposed to be there. No one knows what it is yet but on Wednesdy morning I had some more tests so I guess I’ll find out sooner or later. I’m scared that it’s going to be a brain tumour and that I’ll have to have my head cut open. I really don’t want to have my head cut open.
I’d better get on with some work then. I've got an idea as it goes for a cartoon strip - Raspberry Tart - tart as in like a tart remark - a bit fizzy like - and it's be a series of poignant hateful vignettes featuring a vicious bitter cripple. GET IN!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment