Today has been a hard one. The first words I woke up to this morning were "Do you want to hear bad news? David is dead. He had a heart attack. " All I could manage in response was "Fuck." That is about the extent that it has been discussed. Nobody seems to know what to say, so nothing is said. But I need to talk about it. David was my friend, I guess. (I'd call him a friend, whether the feeling was mutual or not doesn't really matter.) I met David many years ago when I was a teenager working at the local bakery. well, I lie. He observed me while I was working one day and must have decided I had an interesting look. I never took any notic

I miss being a part of this online community. Real life (and all of it's obligations) does tend to take first priority, but it truly never gives the same level of satisfaction as this place can. An artists creative soul can only be soothed by conversing with other artists. I miss sitting up to the wee hours of the morning drinking tea, drawing and chatting to the creatives about their passions. Chasing the muse.  I'd like to find the time for that again, but I'm not sure where it fits into life anymore. Even though I work in a creative industry alongside other artistic people, it still lacks something honest. Conversation slowly turns from p

It's strange and somewhat sad to think that the world continues to circle around so heartlessly. It did not pause for you. It did not spend a second to mourn. You were gone, and nobody noticed. Months turned into years. Two entire years I neglected to reply to your last message.  I did not know that you would die.  I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I'd do anything to take time and forcefully turn back its ticking. I wish that I could have given you my reply. Ill miss you. It will haunt me. Sweet rest my friend Jan. Hopefully we will meet again in the next life. Xo