I'm becoming, or trying to become, more secure about my place in the world. For the last several years, I think I've been diffusing a little too much, letting short-term whims and fleeting interests carry off too much of my time. Musician, game designer, fiction writer, media prankster, monologuist, eBay entrepreneur, most of those hats are going to fall by the wayside for a little bit as I refocus attention on the things that I'm actually good at, whatever those things may be. I need to spend more time drawing; I'm falling out of practice, only picking up the pens when a deadline looms, and I'm beign faced with the staggering atrophy of my skills. I just finished a promotional piece for UGO/Castrol and I was shocked to discover that I forgot how to draw feet. So down at the table once more, the anatomy books in hand, training myself back into shape. Down at the keyboard, writing the stories that most of you come to hear. Down at the riverside, running along the shore, sweating off all that I can no longer be.