THAT'S A MIGHTY BIG CAR.

Today. What can I say about today that would make sense to those of you that don't have the king kong muse I do?

How can I describe thing that happened today when I sat and took up the pencil? It's the very same cheap give-a-way mechanical I've penciled every comic, every canvas, every doddle for the last twelve years. The logo on the pencil once read "Dow Jones& Co, but has long ago been rubbed into history. Point five millimeter pentel HB leads.

Well, my friends, this is how I'd try, try as valiantly as I can to bring you there. Close your eyes and imagine this: A brand new, showroom perfect 1959 Cadillac, color is up to you. Imagine your best friend, say, "Sam" is in the passenger seat....WAY over on the other side with his head out the window. Sam is your dog. The radio plays some sweet soul music, music that just fits. It's the first blush of spring and every tree and shrub is flowering. Sunlight dazzles your eyes through cool as fuck shades. You have a full tank of gas, and that huge dee-troit engine is humming like like Jane after a good night with Tarzan. You have nowhere to go and that's just fine. You just go, sun sparkling little rainbows on the monster hood. You have a couple'a hundred bucks in your pocket and you don't care 'cause you have no need to buy anything, but you could if you wanted to.

That's what happened to me today.

Just one of those oh, so rare days when everything was synced up to the cosmic yes. They happen so infrequently that I honestly don't remember the last time it happened. But I know this: when it does, I remember what I really do this for. Not the money,(HA!) not the recognition,( minimal at best), and not some inflated sense of self. Nope, just a profound gratitude to be alive and able to do this art thing.

Finally, you pull into a gas station like brutal silk, and the attendant says, "hey, mister, that's a mighty big car ya got there."

"Yup", you say, "and she's paid for.

Sam just smiles.

M.Z.