Today I went to an indie press / comics convention that was reminiscent of the Portland Zine Symposium… the first year.
I was completely shocked – London is an enormous city, famed for centuries of cultural revolutions! Where are the kids, where is the underground?
Iain is the expert on tap for such questions. His reply to my plaintive query? I think everyone fled to Germany or Bristol due to rents and the price of beer.
Fair enough.
While I have a romantic attachment to the idea, I guess that I don’t really need to move to London, eh?
In other local news, I just realized that nobody in my vicinity clamored to decorate eggs this year, for the first time in my entire adult life.
My offspring are tall, creative, outgoing people who launch their Easter holidays by going to conventions, and handing out fliers for their work, rather than dipping boiled eggs in cups of food coloring.
This is overwhelmingly sad, and completely amazing. I am honored beyond words to know them.