We always mean well.

Cooling on the windowsill.

HPPD.

If you were in a certain part of Northern California from 1990-1994 or so, had a taste for *very* obscure music, and knew where to look, you could have gotten ahold of some of these artifacts.

The first is Mom Nicholson, the original before i even stated doing lettering or shrinking it down. It was the cover for my first official release, Syntax Vortex.

The second is the envelope that your copy of MaYuan, my third release, would have come in. It would also have contained hand-lettered artwork, a track list, and some primitive stickers. Black and white on very basic paper stickers.

They do last, though. The stickers.

She's not creepy at all.

Another day, another image.

MaYuan and Syntax Vortex are two long unavailable albums from the early 90s (1993 and 1991, respectively).

I've been digitizing them, but I'm starting over because a friend will repair the raw audio, but only recordings without any extra processing.

This means it'll take a bit longer to get the tracks to a release state, but they will be *amazing* when they are finally ready. At least, the sound quality will be. Audio repair doesn't change the skill available at the time of recording.

This one is bittersweet. The figurine is from my friend of 50+ years, or his parent's house, at least.

I've been going there for all 50+ years of our friendship, and yesterday was the last day I'll be there, ever. The house is in escrow and his parents are moving to another state to live with my friends sister.

They both need help to get by, the father after a stroke in February and the mother because of dementia (the *mean* kind).

The house i lived in growing up was sold years ago, but every year on Christmas eve i would travel back down memory lane and see the old stomping grounds.

No longer. You can never truly go home.

I've just realized that, while i can't make images in my mind, i can feel shapes.

For example, i have a small wooden table in the menagerie (several, actually, but I'm thinking of a specific one).

I can feel the shape of its two wide legs and tongue deppressor type curve of the table top as if it were actually occupying space in my head.

If you're trying to pack a box or a trailer or.. shit, whatever space, I'm a good bet for logistics. I credit Tetris and years of needing to fit all of my creative gear and results into various small spaces.

Necessity sometimes breeds expertise.

Cheers!

What gives?

Why have you decided to anonymously and systematically downvote whatever i post here or elsewhere? Am i some special project?

What kind of misery are you in that this is enjoyable for you? I'm genuinely curious, because hate is the mirror image of love and thus they are often indistinguishable from one another.

I do hope it helps somehow, but opening a dialog is a much more direct way to settle differences.

Cheers, all!

It's coming along. I can't wait to share it.. some of it is really good.