I’ve decided not to worry about it – actually that’s not strictly true – I’ve decided to try and channel my worries and fears into my drawing.
The weird thing is that since I found out I’ve been dreaming like a crazy person – all kinds of strange strange things about my family and hospitals and nudity and strangest of all I dreamt I wrote a poem:
pie chart art
is from the heart
it’s sharp yet sweet
like lemon tart
I wrote it down in my dream and read it out like I didn’t understand it. I fucking don’t understand it, that’s why.
I also keep dreaming I’m in a wheelchair. Christ. I’d be an absolute cunt in a chair. I’d go fucking apeshit. With this in mind I drew a cartoon, Viz-style – I used to love Viz, back in the day when it was good. So anyway I drew this cartoon and I had a caption and I showed it to Stan and he said the caption was pants. So I got rid of the caption.
So now I’m going to make it a caption competition. I’ve just got to fiddle with it a bit first though. And then find some people to provide captions……
Meanwhile life goes on - I had a meeting today with a company who are making a documentary about Knights Templar and Cathars and other medieval claptrap which they want me to art direct. I think I’m going to do it. Why the fuck not eh? And against my better judgement I’ve agreed to let Stan move in with me fr a few months. We used to live together before and one day I had to punch him on the nose for eating all my oven chips. WITHOUT ASKING!
Fucker better be very careful this time round as I’m a lot less tolerant than I used to be.