Without getting too deep into it... it's safe to say this has been one of the hardest summers of my life. A lot (like a lot) of ER visits, multiple week-long hospital stays, and the loss of a very close loved one three days ago. From late May until now, s**t has been flowin' steady and shows no signs of stopping. Before you break out the world's smallest violin, though, I'm okay. I'll be okay. My family, on the other hand... And yet. I have never been more productive art-wise. I work almost every night on drawings or paintings or writing. It's like a fever. I can't stop. Don't want to stop. Out of the ashes of trauma and loss and depressive episodes, has arisen a phoenix-like passion for life and love and all the gorgeous things in it. I did not think I could enjoy anything so much as I enjoy being alive, right now, writing and painting and breathing (I'm also a novelist. In case you didn't notice my garrulousness. I put it to good use elsewhere, too haha). Nothing like a little tragedy to put things into perspective. I get such wonder putting what is ostensibly dirt and colored mud and wax on a surface and having it become a cherishable object. It can be a beautiful woman, a heroic man, a story, a face. Doesn't matter. All of it is humanity. In the blue of her eyes lies my entire life story. Isn't that a funny thought? This is the kind of stuff I always wished I could do, and I'm doing it. Even though life is brutal right now, it is also incredible just to experience it and grow as a human being because of it. How lucky we all are to be artists in this community on this website. A corner of the internet, where things grow. Where the love of people creating beauty is somehow outweighing the world's desire for destruction. Thank you, friends. Thank you, Proko. Love you, Gram.