Good morning, Clawed the Destroyer.
In other, slightly related news: I’ve been spending some time painting, when I get the chance to relax. Don’t worry, it’s still a geeky pursuit because it’s digital painting. This program, called ArtRage, is super easy to use and actually makes digital painting fun, not like trying to do it on Photoshop. It’s neat, mainly because it eerily reacts the way real paint would. The demo runs for as long as you’d like, full version is $25. PC and Mac. I’m gonna buy it.
A middle-aged woman walked into the shop last week, saying she had noticed us from the street and wanted to know what we do. Given my bosses were in a meeting, I gave her a tour. You know the one: “here’s an 84-inch wide printer. Yeah, we print that big. 84 inches by 150 feet if you want…”
After we’re done, she says I look familiar. “Do you work at the Apple store downtown?”
No, ma’am. I’m not that kind of hipster yuppie. I’m a completely different kind of hipster yuppie.
10 years ago, my father was struck by a grand maul seizure and a stroke at the same time. Amongst the numerous things it did to his mind and body, he lost complete control of his left side; no feeling, heavily impaired mobility, et cetera. This sucked all the more given he is left handed. When the doctors told him he’d never walk again, in grand Lawless fashion, his response was “like Hell!” Before too long, he was walking pretty darned well.
On Wednesday, he called me to let me know that, for the first time in 10 years, he was washing his hands and actually felt hot water on his left hand. And aside from some pain he felt on his left side a few days prior, this has been a sudden occurrence. When he called, I can describe his mood as nothing but jubilant; he had spent the day celebrating by walking around with a mug of coffee, as well as throwing and catching a ball. I honestly cannot fathom what that must be like — to welcome the use of your body back to your mind, as two long-separated brothers.
This situation has made me realize that I am not someone who believes in miracles — I hadn’t ever known that about myself before. It’s not that I feel offended by people who do believe in miracles, nor do I think them foolish; it’s just that within a quarter-century of my life, I’ve seen some pretty ugly things, and the end of ugliness has always felt more like a return to normalcy, rather than a miraculous occurrence.
My father’s recovery is a miracle, as much as I can tell. And it’s left me dumbfounded. Oh, and most certainly jubilant.
There’s been a scarcity of posts lately, I can attest to that. But rest assured, there is plenty goin’s on.
Not the least of which, BIG Images has moved from it’s home of the last four years to 767 Francis Street, three blocks from where it was and pretty much next door to the Co-op. This space is almost three times bigger, and by golly, it’s been quite a whirlwind affair.
Anyhow, today’s the first day in the new shop. You can read more about it here at BIG-images.com.