I awoke with a head full of mountains. After spending three days looking for a way to get to Slovenia, I'm no closer to buying a ticket but I am closer to making it real. Something else made it real too. The good and fine people of Mark Allen Publishing in London said of course I could have my old illustration gigs back. To prove it, Becca sent me two drawings to do and others in the company have said welcome back.
I can now go to the Alps with a job -- a job I've had for 20 years (and which I gave up 18 months ago) and the reason why I've been able to live on a Greek island, in rural France and here in America. They can give me enough work to live on and all I need is the internet.
Every day the enormous weight that sits on my chest gets a little lighter. That feeling of a weight on the chest is commonly depicted as a goblin and this image is a very accurate depiction of my current situation; a tall muscular me, an evil goblin compressing my chest, and Tyson dressed as a horse.
I don't like turning off the light at night because my head fills with sadness or worry or a kind of spiralling panic, the goblin getting more and more content as it crushes the air out of me. As a means of warding off the worry, I have taken to watching videos on my Android phone until I fall asleep. Last night I watched something about the Alps so as to concentrate on the good things about moving. My brother lives only 10 miles or so from the highest peak in Slovenia -- Triglav. It is over 9,000 feet of snow-covered wonderfulness and gives its name to Triglav National Park. My brother, and soon me and Tyson, live right on the edge of it.
I woke up with a head full of mountains, the chance of an income, survival, and hope. I woke up to find that I'd sold two print copies of The Midlife of Dudley Chalk, making it a grand total of 5 print copies and 7 e-books, plus one borrowed from Amazon's lending library. I'm into double figures, and this morning that feels good.
Moving with my dog to Slovenia.