THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME...

Okay, here we go, the obligatory end of year wrap up.

I hate this shit. It honestly seems so arbitrary and ultimately useless.

But my culture sort of demands it.

Lately I've been trying very hard to escape this feeling that the quantum conscience of god, aliens of a far superior race, or just plan entropy has their hands or tentacles or whatever poised on the handle and any moment now we will all begin the counter-clockwise rotation on the great water slide.

If any advanced whatever even cares.

So, with that in mind, and if we make it, here are a few things I look forward to. Of course this is in no particular order.

A: My ship, (or more accurately my dingy.) has come into the harbor but has not docked yet. "Boy" is out and after far to many years I may actually get paid something for the sweat, pain agony and dashed hopes I endured for far, far to long to make it happen. I will need to invest a substantial portion of it in re-outfitting my studio so I can really make things worth,(hopefully.) the effort involved in making them. That includes a whole new book, far, far different but in many ways quite similar to the last one. This time I hope I don't have to stop every week or two to pimp myself on ebay. That would be a true blessing.

B: the release of Caitlin R.Kiernans magnificent "The Drowning Girl: a Memoir." To say I am overjoyed at having however small a part in the promotional aspects of this unholy masterpiece pleases me to no end.

C: the "Panel to Panel" book by my friend John Rovnak, including work by my former New England squad of artists and writers. At least twice a year I get hit with terrible nostalgia for the old granite hills of New England. You must support his efforts. www.paneltopanel.net.

D: the still possible, though as of now somewhat remote showing in one place of the artwork for "Boy" I'd really like that.

E: the total revamping of my web-site. For a long time now it's served me well, but it's time has come and the need for a new face on the web for me is becoming more than a general spruce up, but a necessity.

There, off the top of my head, "things to look forward to. That is if we all don't wink out of existence tomorrow morning.

Late dear ones,

M.Z.

...THICK AS A BRICK.

   "Really don't mind if you sit this one out.   My words but a whisper -- your deafness a SHOUT. I may make you feel but I can't make you think. Your sperm's in the gutter -- your love's in the sink. So you ride yourselves over the fields and you make all your animal deals and your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick. And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in the tidal destruction the moral melee. The elastic retreat rings the close of play as the last wave uncovers the newfangled way. But your new shoes are worn at the heels and your suntan does rapidly peel and your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.   And the love that I feel is so far away: I'm a bad dream that I just had today -- and you shake your head and say it's a shame."

Ian Anderson, "thick as a brick."

Yeah, it's a damn shame.

Look forewords to those credit card bills come January. At least the lights and whatnot are pretty, and the change dropped into a

salvation army pot mitigates some guilt. Ah, well, new things, ( "Opium") coming along slowly but well. 

Work to live, live to work.

Happy Holidays!

M.Z.