Hey everyone (if anyone still visits my stagnant page)!
Been too long since my last post, but do not fear the blog is not dead. I am resuming my work on comics after a brief period of no development. Something about this summer just didn't want me to be sitting in front of my computer. I can seriously say in the last three weeks, I've maybe spent a total of five hours in front of my PC. Usually, it is to just check email and other people's blogs.
I really haven't done too much this summer...trip to Moose Jaw, lots of movies, a few piss ups, and TV of course. Last week was my last time working at PC Place. I was supposed to keep my job until school started, but due to slow business, I was let go. I'm not really too disappointed. I've wanted out of the computer business for awhile now (hence my return to school) but this sealed the deal. I'm officially done. Not even working Saturdays. It's somewhat sad, for that's where most of my friends are, but maybe it's just another step forward in my life. And to me, stepping forward always makes one look back, to times that are good and times that are bad. But mostly, it makes me realize of time that you will never have again. I do realize that the sand is constantly slipping through the hour glass. Problem is, we can't turn the glass back over. It's glued to the table people.
Not trying to be depressing, just expressing a thought.
So, now my interest with my new found free time, has turned to reading. I've been reading a bunch of Stephen King books (re-reading some) that I've put off for awhile. I know in my own head that I should be working on art or my comics, but I don't think one should feel guilty about reading. I need to read more (and maybe even something NOT written by King). But those grains of sand keep slipping through the orifice (I found that's the technical name for the narrow part) and I find I never have enough time to do all that I want to get done in a day/week/season.
Side note: When one actually uses the hourglass as a metaphor for one's own timeline, I would have to postulate that one actually exists in the orifice itself. Time to come - above, time that has passed - below. Actually existing there would never let one see how full the glass is above or below, for sight would be blocked with the continuous flow of sand. Only until the very last grains were to pass by would one realize that they could finally see the top of the glass, and the mound of dust piled below. And then what? Does one find oneself as the last grain, falling to the peak of sand that has already passed by? Or would one just float in the nether region of the clock with nothing to look forward to and only grains to look down upon but never be able to feel flow past again?
Either way, this post sounds quite depressing.
(The problem I find when I read a lot, it tends to make me write much more as well.)
I leave you with a piece of geekery I came up with last night while enjoying my bed-time smoke. It's a haiku for SMS enthusiasts. Enjoy:
/Till next time.