Junkie neighbor, mourning cat, etc.
Wow man, It's about 6pm here and I just got in from the art store with a ton of art stuff (plus a power strip and a lighter with a naked lady on it), and I passed a guy sitting right on the steps at the entrance of my street, shooting smack into the back of his forearm. That's a first. Then I bid good-day to the lovely trans hooker on the corner and slipped into my building to drag my packages up five flights of stairs in unreasonable shoes. I surely do love the feeling of coming home with a giant slab of Bristol board and an arsenal of beautiful new pens. I've got fucking comics to draw, man, and that is a very fine and very serious feeling indeed.

On the way to the art store, I walked through one of my favorite scenes in Paris — there's this overpass that goes over top of the Cimetiere de Montmartre, and you can see hundreds of elaborate tombs and graves sticking up everywhere all over this weirdly-terraced lot. I glanced down though the railing of the bridge and noticed this cat sitting on one of the graves, completely still...










Spooky, huh? I watched him for about five minutes and then let him be. I'm really glad I remembered to bring my camera today.