Papertelevision

Just got back from a lot of looong walks, and motion-sick-inducing cab rides in NYC. Overall the trip was a good time (despite the sore feet and queezy stomach). Attending the AI-AP party was as fun as ever, and I even got a chance to meet The Heads of State, which are a personal fave. I was relieved to find that they were as friendly as they are talented. hopefully they come to my website now, since I snuck some business cards into their hands. Hi guys! Hi! Let’s do lunch!

I’ll be the first to admit that I did a horrible job of documenting my trip in photos. You can check out my tourist-cliche photo set here though. I’m usually not a whiner, but I had a cold for the entire trip, and I never have colds. So, all the walking and drinking beers and sneezing really took its toll. Hopefully I didn’t give anyone a bad image of myself, cuz usually I’m not as sleep-eyed, nor do I typically have fluids ejecting from my nose. Not as much anyway.

A friend of mine went to the city for a long weekend, with the intent of finding some good beer to add to our long list of “beers we’ve drinked” list. My favorite had to be the Brooklyn Lager, which is cool because it’s made in Brooklyn, and I was in Brooklyn. Know what I mean? Also ate some great food and saw everything we could squeeze in.

Being around the creative people at the party really sparked something in me that’s been missing. It really went a long way in re-energizing my urge to create, which any of you who’ve kept up with my writings know has been a problem over the past year. It was extremely nice to talk to people with the same challenges as I’ve had, and even a few who had the exact same frustrations of working in a creative environment. It was even stranger to hear all the people who wanted to be IN my position as it stands now. Independent. That was a real surprise…people jealous…of me?

I feel really lucky these days. I also feel full. Not just of beer. I feel like my old self, and that’s been a long time comin’.

Anyway, here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip. Again, you can see the rest here.

Just a quick reminder that I’ll be attending the American Illustrators/American Photography show in New York City on Thursday evening. Looking forward to meeting the fellow Illustrators!

Stop by and say hello if your in the neighborhood, otherwise, I’ll return to my cow-ridden pastures of Ohia next week. I’m off!

I’ve been spending a lot of time on my backdoor stoop. It’s a good place to take a break from the computers, especially when it’s hitting 74 degrees in November. Today I couldn’t help how Fall has dug its teeth into the surrounding earth. Won’t be long before the season shrugs off this spat of Indian Summer and unsheathes itself completely.

Upon looking closer, I started noticing more. I started noticing that I was interested in things again. I could look at the cracks in the concrete, the mud and veinous roots of my yard, and actually feel something enough to make me run back upstairs to grab the camera.

Starting to feel normal again.

Finally. I haven’t had a real dream in a good 5-6 months. No kidding. I used to dream so vividly, and so often, that I looked forward to waking up in the morning to think about the ridiculous things my mind came up with.

It was undeniably from stress, as there for a while i was lucky if I even slept, let alone well enough to dream. Never thought I’d be a case for insomnia, and i don’t think I reached that point, but some nights I clocked about three hours of sleep, waking up with my heart racing and my mind churning out thoughts like an engine. Stupid thoughts too. Analyzing movies I watched. Analyzing books, interactions, conversations, frustrations…analyzing my over-analyzing.

Things are finally getting back to normal. Last night I had a dream. In it I was in a dark, cluttered attic, and the boxes, countless books, covered furniture, and dusty old antiques made me feel young. I also felt free, even beckoned, to explore every nook and cranny of the room, to uncover any secret that the hidden items may reveal. The stories in those books. The treasure beneath the drapes.

I remember feeling like I had no desire. Not because I wasn’t interested, but I simply just didn’t feel the need to explore, to dig in, to discover. I was just happy that I could see the lumpy room

(the sheet-draped, mounded furniture a blizzardy aftermath.)

for what it was. A dream. A dream of clutter that was at the same time extremely simple and obvious. A small bite of what’s going on in my head.

I can handle the clutter. No different then anyone else on the planet. It’s just nice to know that my dreams just may have returned to give me a hand in knowing what’s going on.