I like night. Sort of.
As far as good versus bad things happen, day and night are 50/50. It only seems like just bad things happen in the night. I don’t have any more deep an explanation than that. It’s a Sunday morning and my little squirrel brain is three textures away from being scrambled eggs with peppers.
I thought of this last night while sitting in the window of Frank’s new-ish studio. The house itself is taking a breather from a series of projects… landscaping, tiles, paint… all of which will be noted in the comic strip. But I was just sitting there, looking out into nothing… not really nothing… I know that the lawn is out there. But there were so many sounds, little flashes of light and actual smells. Maybe it was just the tired squirrel in me, but I just was really glad that I could seal up my cocoon and shut that stuff out.
Crickets can be real pains in the tail. And those birds, what’s their deal? Sleep much?!
