Spent part of yesterday drawing a four-panel comic strip and having the time of my life, side of left palmmeats smeared in graphite, eight-year old inside thrilled to no end with his aging, decrepit 42-year old vessel. About fucking time, he said, more than once, About fucking time. Trying to get into the practice of drawing from a basic notion/idea, sans script: the thing took on a new (and far more interesting) life from what I had intended in writing; might as well roll with it. If nothing else, I finally found a use for all those old backer boards. Next up: figure out a workflow for inking, shrinking, and pubbing; eventually: a regular schedule.