This is a long one...

[athlondreams]

So I'm back from Georgia, and I'm feeling a bit introspective. I'm also feeling a bit anti-social, as I've not been alone at all in the past week, and I really need to be alone from time to time. I also discovered that Matthew has a wonderful family, and I hope he realizes how lucky he is. I was raised by a wonderful woman who I loved very much, but after my parents divorced I never saw her again. Her given name was Katherine Black, but I always called her Miss Katie. she was a Black Creole woman of indeterminate age. In the twelve years I knew her, she seemed unchangeable, the one constant in my life. Two things happened this week that made me realize how much I miss her. The first was meeting and spending time with Matthew's parents and grandparents. The second was learning that my favorite person in the entire world, the beautiful and wonderful Jessica, lost her father to cancer Sunday morning. When I learned of this, I wanted so badly to just hold her, and tell her something, anything, that would make her feel even the slightest bit better. I could not do this. I am a stranger to her family, and therefore could not impose myself upon their personal grief. i instead had to try to console her over Matthew's cell phone. I failed miserably. This is because I've never dealt particularly well with death. With the exception of Miss Katie, a hired servant ( I hate referring to her as that, I felt closer to her than I've ever felt to any blood relative I've had, but she was, in fact, hired by my father to raise me), I've never had a visceral relationship with anyone in my family. I don't even know when she died, or for that matter, if she is in fact dead. I can only assume this is so, as she raised my father and aunt, and was older than my paternal grandmother (who died in 1997). When my father died, I was informed, on my birthday (by my mother and maternal grandmother), a full two months after the fact. I will certainly be unaware of my mother's death, as is true of my maternal grandmother, as I expect to never communicate with either. The reasons for which are onerous to detail at this point, but in the case of my mother, all would agree my decision is justified. In the case of my grandmother, the guilt of being non-present for my uncle's death is my only excuse, and an unacceptable one at that. He assumed the role of father and older brother on the rare occasions he was able, and I missed his final moments because I'd dedicated all my time to my little webcomic, and therefore had not the money to go see him. I can't face her after that. I could have at least called, but I was too intent on burying my own grief to do so.
The only time I've truly given in to grief was when I was 21. My fiancee and unborn child were killed while on their way to my birthday celebration. I don't talk about the three years that followed. Suffice to say that they were not especially constructive, productive, or sane. The only reason I survived those years is due to a manufacturing default by Walther. That and friends who refused to sell me the more exotic chemicals I used to blot out the pain and guilt.
I honestly did not intend this entry to go this way, but I oddly refuse to edit or delete it. Instead, I will change topics.
Not only am I caught up on the comic (aside from the afore-mentioned break), but I'm actually ahead. I do need to email Misha and request a script for Friday, though. I've been experimenting with a new style (yes... again...) that closer fits my previous experience. the final two panels in Monday's strip aren't very good (I swear they looked better on the laptop LCD), but I hope that Wednesday's strip will be considered better. I absolutely adore the newest version of Corel Painter. Being able to mix paint directly on the canvas is amazingly freeing.
Sometimes I think I made a mistake in moving to Cleveland. If I hadn't, however, I'd never had met Jae, Katie & Mike (who are now engaged; I should probably congratulate them in their journals, but I'd rather do that in person), Melissa, or Dmitri (whom I've not seen in a very long time, but they are often in my thoughts). And of course, Cheshire Grin never would have started. Despite all the sacrifices, pain (my wrist bothers me quite abominably much of the time), and poverty involved in this frustrating, yet rewarding endeavor, I do love it. There are sufficient reasons that make me think that I wish I could have simultaneously been in both places, though.
I think I'm going to stop rambling now. Howard gave me his copy of Homeworld 2, so perhaps I'll just play that for a bit.