IF I HAD A FAMILY CREST.

...I would have to say it would involve a daft horse and poppies, and a quill.

I should just just make one up, it happens all the time, people just register them and that's that.

I think it might be fun.

Ah well. On to more or less serious things I suppose.

I am thinking of issuing the Bel Canto drawings as a folio, in very limited quantities and beautifully

designed, ( as if I could let anything out of Bent Nail Studio that wasn't. Oh by the way I am also thinking for a kind of "fine arts" division called "Morphine Rose.") and of the finest quality at a reasonable price. I had always intended to do this when I sat down to do the series yeas ago. I am also changing my official signature again, this time for the far foreseeable future. I'll post it soon. This came about during San Diego, when I noticed that the current one didn't seem to look quite right to my eye. Since one can not hear my work except in the mind, the appearance is vital.

Oh yeah, just for grins.... out where I am, one can but old homes, (old, leaky, drafty, hard to heat homes.) for what would be a song in a more urban area. I have done just that...well the papers are being drawn up anyway. This will of course be an on going restoration project but it will also house a full scale studio, much needed after the truncated version I have had to use for several yeas now. I am picking it up for an unmentionable sum, as the wonderful old man who lived there also died there and was partially umm, well, got at by his cats. I do this on friday the thirteenth no less. Tres me, no? I shall honor his memory by making beautiful things for years to come. Also, the grand, run down old place will NOT be land filled and forgotten.

One other thing before I go... A tip of the oh so stylish Zedlian beret to Madam for the kind words.

Invisible bridges exist unseen and vital between the arts, and as She so bravely states in these cynical times, travel out of our minds and into our hearts. After all, that's all I have ever said, only without a voice, just the silent scratch of a pen, and less well.

Peace to you all.

M.Z.