NOTHING TO SAY AND I'M SAYING IT.

Been a while, I'm going to rightly or wrongly, assume that somebody noticed.

There has been "things" ( you know, six legs, slimy, sort of greenish..) going on in my absence.

I've finished copy-editing the text and placement of said text for the book. As of this writing it's being re-worked to the highest standard that can be managed with a great deal of talent and a very modest budget. Wonders have been worked regardless. The whole editing thing was weird though. I can see the value of another set of eyes during this process as I've been staring at this book for a very long time now. But then again, who better to do it? I know just what I want from this thing and I must put on a different hat in this case. if it's screwed up, I blame nobody but myself. As it should be I think.

But it good to me......onward. Still keeping the fingers and other sundry digits crossed for the April release.

I promise that the next novel will run much smoother. The learning curve has been just nuts. I've used more than one air-sick bag over this. (the author makes a very rude noise.)

The sickness thing has been largely cleared up...though as I write, I'm recovering from a common head cold. It's been a very long, very sick winter. I for one will rejoice when the poppies bloom again.

And, very soon, I'll actually be painting again after far far to long a time. And this time, I'll have the time to approach the act with both the time and the will to do something at the top of whatever game it is I play with myself. No more rushing because I have to be doing something to make the rent or whatever. Though I do.

Who am I kidding here? There is never, ever enough time. Or money. God I hate money. In this country it's the only crime that's unforgivable on a very deep cultural level: the crime of having no money.

Geez I'm a happy guy today eh?

Remember, question authority. You know you want to.

M.Z.

WE ARE NOT A-MUSED.

The first day back in the studio to explore the long in stasis leavings of a fevered mind.

Mixed results were had.

Rusty and squeaky gears, clogged vents, dust bunnies in the corners.

Minor drawing efforts and sweaty palms, dangerously suspended over the abyss of doubt.

Made it out in one piece, minor wounds and glad to be alive.

Going back in today armed to the teeth.

Divine intervention welcomed.

Full report at eleven.

"hang in the there."

M.Z.

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER RAY OF HOPE.

Well my dears, I actually didn't do a runner on you all. Though the "ten questions" thing was a bit premature. I was a bit overconfident about the state of my health and my ability to convince even myself I was in better shape than I was/am/. Sorry about that. Maybe some other time, ok?

As of this writing I'm still in a kind of no where state between health and illness. Everybody is as puzzled as I am. The fact of the matter is that I simply don't have the stamina I need to work, and every day that passes without making at least a little something has become a soft, pervasive agony.

I have laid some great plans for things to come, but hypothetical art is no art at all when push comes to shove. The Book continues to advance into a real thing soon to make a mess of what reputation I have left: "old dinosaur drops his trousers in public. No one impressed."

I can't wait. I know you're out there, i hear you breathing.

Oh, yeah, major insomnia this morning. I feel like on of those late night DJ's who play hours of strange melancholy jazz things at three in the morning. All neon in the rain and far off headlights.

I've become my own cliche. Cool. I'd hate to be anyone else's.

Back to the (sort of) subject. The book is still on time for an April release, and I'll be appearing at some convention or another( at a certain point they all merge in ones mind.) on or about the release date. This will be my first public outing since 2003 in NYC...I believe a few more are in the works leading up to a few days in San Diego. Which I'm still conflicted about: I just dislike the "show of shows" on a very deep aesthetic level that is visceral. All Kafka and Tod Browning, if you get my drift. But, business is business. And contrary to the odd rumor, I'm not permanently in an asylum in new Hampshire nor dieing of AIDS in France.

Other than that, lets see........some limited edition tee shirts are waiting to be bought and get all sweaty, possibly a few prints, I dunno about that one, but speculation is the stuff of way to early in the morning coffee and cigarettes. "and next up you night owls, Bill Nelson, with the oh-six release, "Neptune's galaxy"......so sit back you holy fools and thieves and relax".

Oh, the dog thing fell through as per my luck. I swear, it'd be easier to buy an elephant than get a dog these days. You have to wonder.

I guess this is the "tid-bit" section as my enthusiasm wanes.

Lets see: long talk with Neil the other day about stuff I can't talk about.

Karen's been away at her parents place for the past week, so I've not only been sick and frustrated but alone and sick and frustrated.

I don't know if I've mentioned this but my agent the illusive man of mystery Thomas has a kind of strange endorsement deal with the primary(I may be wrong about that, details details.) distributor of Sennelier art products in the US. I use their shit a lot and love the quality: yup Zulli's sold out baby! Seriously though Sennelier rocks. Thy are FRENCH Y'ALL. Tres cool kiddo, and beat me daddy eight to the bar.

Ok. that's it. I'm talked out. Best leave before i get to boring...a good guest knows when to leave.

Usually before a drunken brawl starts. know what I mean?

Later cool cats and kitties.

M.Z.