July 23

Books, that is what I am turning to this month. Proactive action as suggested by those proactive authors in self help, or maybe in smart thinking. That and a sugar free diet with plenty of water and wholesome exercise.

There seems to be an inertia settling over my days, like a dust that for some reason is preventing movement not showing there has been no movement. This month I will still stick to the perenial targets of weightloss and being a better person, as well as trying to make a graphic story once a week. This month I will add the target of fighting the inertia, understanding the inertia and making it be gone.

Welcome to my collection of artworks, sketches, stories and other ideas. I draw something every day and post the picture to my socials as well as to this website. The list below shows the projects I am currently working on as well as links to the lists of projects I have stopped working on or have completed.

All images on this website are original art works and may not be used for commercial purposes without expressed permission by myself, the artist.

Wonder, this cynical self must open up towards accept and accept more wonder. Let life wash over myself, take the chances I have of enjoying life, go to the theatre, or the concert, and the gallery that shows something a little different even if it is wholly not brilliant there still is a little spark, and something to have a conversation about after. Conversation is life.

Today, every day I remember this is what I am, this is what I do. Wallowing in the midlife crisis is not worth the displeasure of a toothache in the morning so instead figure out what Dr Mosley suggests is the one thing to do today that will turn this into a better tomorrow. Go on doc.

So the one idea is to eat thirty different plants in the week, so far I have has 3 types of lettuce, cucumber, tomato, onion, five kinds of nuts, aubergine, carrots, bell peppers, red chillis, peas, sweetcorn, button mushrooms, pistachios, which is ten away from target, but what ten is the challenge. The other thing is not to eat for 14 hour a day, gosh it is a long time until lunch.

The thing about the war, the thing was you don't talk about those bits, you run about sorting out the things that are sort-out-able and some of the things are a little bizarre, who would think it a good idea to carry a tree stump everywhere, at first as a punishment then as a point of pride, of something tangible, an action that can be taken, showing you can, am, doing something.

So easy, it can all be so easy, like when we were li5le and all there was was hearing an idea and saying, yes, that is a fun idea, let's play that game. And throwing ourselves into the play, as we go along we create the rule. As we went along the rules got more complicated, more confusing as the rules turned into secrets. Now all I have left is secrets, secrets I cannot tell you, or anyone.

It is all other people's ideas, all the thoughts have been had by someone else, and the crisi is not existential, it is not about whether or not I am, or I have meaning. There is meaning there is existence. The crisis is whether or not I am unique, even a small amount of uniqueness would be enough to drag me away from this endless need for reassurance, god how pathetic.

The story is about the ways in which the interaction enriched either one, two or many of those interaction. The storyteller must wind these enrichments through pacy action, witty, fairly idealised dialogue until the enrichment is no longer between the characters but between the storyteller and the listener.

I remember a few stories which have a particular even which mixes the characters to create the scenario in which they can exchange, and learn from each other. One is a cancelled train, followed by late night taxi busses and midnight trains, and as the fellow passengers said goodbye at the end of their adventure they indeed knew they would never see each other again.

I remember a few stories which have a particular even which mixes the characters to create the scenario in which they can exchange, and learn from each other. One is a family gathering in which a son reveals to his siblings the abuse their father committed on his daughter's, wrapped neatly with the flights home at the end of the weekend.

Like night time ships we must go about our business alone, and we should expect to be alone as we complete our business in the night, for when daylight appears we will be able to see to the horizon, and in such a gaze all foible that pass in the night will be counted against us.

There have been spaces iny day which I have not found before, but the runny thing is that at the end of the day, as I write this little note about the day, I am thinking of numerous things that I could have done to fill those spaces, numerous things that are not just marking time waiting for a decision, or a change in plan, or a confirmation. Or a touch.

Caught out again but in a completely different way to yesterday. Again I didn't manage to do the bits I had thought at the end of yesterday that need doing, but this time it was because my day was full-ish. There is room for being more organised, but always being busy is nice. And tiring.

The story begins with the old man plodding. Plodding. He is leaning forward, he is weary. He may be passing interesting things, a bus, a train, travelling through the city, into the country, we know because we can see the scapes passing by behind the old man, but he doesn't see because he is looking down. Staring at the ground, not making eye contact, not needing to say anything to anyone, just getting to where he is going. That is what plodding is.

Checking the facts, perhaps the way the future will check our facts is through this turgid heap of virtual shit we have left on this server or that. I wonder how much energy Google and meta and twitter and the likes spend on keeping the shit that I no longer remember in an orderly fashion. Idiotic.

I like the idea of lists, this is the list of things that make me laugh, this is the list of things that turn me on. This is this list, this is that list. Then once you have a list you can coordinate the lists. And the bigger the list the better the triangulation. And this is why AI will be far better at targeting us, there is no need for complex algorithms as AI can remember all the lists.

It is a funny thing, this sport I play. There is a lot of the same thing happening, repeat, repeat, repeat, but sometimes the repetition feels good, well timed and the effect is glorious, but then a moment later it does not matter how much effort, strain I put in the effect is abosmal, and I cannot figure out how I will ever win another point again.

Lost, floating amid the nothingness with no idea of the directioni need to take, and in a moment of motivation I look up, turning my inward gaze outward, and I am overwhelmed by hopelessness and I cannot figure out the plan, so I stutter about the old, the plan I had before I was lost, the way I was going, but I have no idea what that is.

So, all I have to do is make tomorrow better than today. I don't have to change everything today, to be fair that is fairly foolish. It should be a very small thing. And tomorrow with the confidence of that small change, successful or no, I can take on a slightly, only slightly, bigger thing. Then maybe a bigger thing. I think the first thing in need is confidence.

When I was young I laughed at glove puppets and people falling over. Now I don't laugh anymore. I don't talk anymore. And nothing has any meaning anymore, and who cares if Barbie and Ken and all the other dolls question each other in a five hour art film about their existential crisis while watching a five minute art film about their existential crisis.

So here is the question. He believes what he is saying, he believes it completely. And you believe he has a right to believe what he is saying. It does not make him delusional, it does not make him deminished. It is just that you don't believe the things he believes. So how do you tell him you don't believe the things he believes but still believe he is right to believe?

Pushing against sleep again, the reality of life as it is is grinding, I'm not wanting tomorrow to come so I don't go to sleep. In the solitude of the end of the day, myself and the television, and my phone to type these words, but tomorrow will arrive and with it tomorrow's disappointments, inevitably.

There was a moment this morning when I thought about the things I was going to do today, but that moment passed and I didn't go to the hardware store, I didn't put away the laundry, I didn't vaccuum the floor, I didn't clean the kitchen, I did nothing but wallow, trying to pretend I was doidn something when I was mostly not doing multiple things. Multitasking is not productive.

So how does this work? I change the lane, head of in a different direction and concentrate only on things that make me happy. But what are these things that make me happy. What are the things that are living my life. I am not going to say no to the things that have have been doing but I am going to keep looking in the direction of things that are more fun. More fun.

Somewhere, sometime, something. The thing is to try for just a moment to make the other's life a little better. And to hope that the other person has the same idea, and for a moment will try make another person's life better. But the thing that comes before the thing is that the first life needs to be good enough. It is not all struggle, it is not all toil. We start with good enough and more outwards and onwards to better.

It was endless and relentless, it would make a reasonably selling book, but not one they sell the film rights for. Nothing that original. Just a story about how everyday when the protaginist comes home another thing is changed in the household. This time it was the kitchen had been ripped out and a bedroom placed in the centre. Not done proper, just ripped out. And the protaginist tries to explain how this shouldn't happen because the gas could leak and the house would explode, possibly. But it didn't and the protaganist can say nothing. And that is the point the protaganist can say nothing because no one listens. It is a story about the silence of not having a voice.

StoryDots was meant to be a project to bring storytelling into the age of social media. Gradually over the years I have fiddled with it and now there are other ways of making stories on our phones and computers, but perhaps there is still a space in social media that will mimic the form of writing but open up the story into a greater depth where fan fiction can combine with webtoons with original art and memes or those faes. And maybe I can pull this space together before my mind drips away into muddle. And perhaps this project is more about linking from one to another, joining the dots.

Wobbling, perhaps even stumbling into this new year, without much of a plan other than an idea of trudging along hoping the bad is bottoming out and the good still has a fair way to climb. It is a balance, not so? It is always a balancing trick.

Conversation
Wonder, this cynical self must open up towards accept and accept more wonder. Let...

Go on Doc
Today, every day I remember this is what I am, this is what I do. Wallowing in the...

Just another thing
So the one idea is to eat thirty different plants in the week, so far I have has 3 types...

Something
The thing about the war, the thing was you don't talk about those bits, you run about...

Rules and secrets
So easy, it can all be so easy, like when we were li5le and all there was was hearing an...

How pathetic
It is all other people's ideas, all the thoughts have been had by someone else, and...

The Listener
The story is about the ways in which the interaction enriched either one, two or many of...

Cancelled trains
I remember a few stories which have a particular even which mixes the characters to...

Flights home
I remember a few stories which have a particular even which mixes the characters to...

Night ships
Like night time ships we must go about our business alone, and we should expect to be...

Just a touch more
There have been spaces iny day which I have not found before, but the runny thing is that...

Tiring
Caught out again but in a completely different way to yesterday. Again I didn't...