Brag (Not Billy. The One Yo Mama Told Ya Not to Do)

... that old saying "Be careful what you wish for..." strikes again. I love casting wishes. I dig the arse out of it (how's my eloquence?). Arse is my favourite word at the moment.

I'm exhausted. Life for nearly a month now has been sleep > work > shifts on with babe > work> blah. But I feel great, mainly because of one thing. Here's my brag for the year:

Looong ago, James and I cast a wish, back when I still lived in Tokyo and he lived in Birmingham; looong before the Island became home. We wished that one day, in our best most possible dreams we would have a beautiful home, healthy love and life, but that we would also be working in our preferred areas, he animation and I film.

Dang that goldy-loxy wish ... it came true! Snuck up. Snuck in. We are at the tip, the precipice of it. He is being paid to draw for a TV animation and I'm being paid to produce an international small film. And all of it is happening on this Island, so far from the cities of slickness that we sailed from to make our nest.

My brag is over now.

I was just wondering if you would like to have a brag now? ... Tell me, or better, remind yourself of a wish cast and granted. That exercise, remembering and noting the possibility of magic, is worth more than the wish-come-true itself.

Art Making: I dig your arse. Art Making Who Pays the Bills: I blow raspberries on your arse. Two Parents Art Making and Paying the Bills: I fucking pay homage to your rare and precious arse.

This job comes down in 8 days. Then I will return to the cinders, with pleasure.