For years I have waited.

Waited for the times when I could paint what I want, go to sleep when I want, dress comfortably, and not worry about awkward moments with others. I am awkward and I know it, they know it. Now it is expected. I was sort of pushed into retirement, but I know what was going on. As a commercial artist, you have to keep up with the trends and the last one destroyed me.

Do you remember when porcelain and molded paste collectables were all the rage? Well, I was a part of that army of artists who for a few dollars handed over their skills for the contrived and pathetic little theme oriented clusters of princesses, birds on bird houses, flowers in attitude, the list goes on and on. . It rendered me enough to buy this house I suppose and that is good, but it is no Fiddlehead! And I was able to go to online web design school.

I am educated to be and was for a brief period, a newspaper illustrator. Newspapers were falling down like rain when I was at the pinnacle of my career. Mine fell and I went down with the ship. After that it was all detours. Like the one above about figurines. I illustrated a few children’s books but I don’t even remember them except you can count them on one hand. I tried art fairs, publishers, all got me work, but it was for everyone else.

The irony.  As a journalist, experienced newspaper illustrator, college graduate (3.98GPA), and web designer, the closest I get to any of those jobs is delivery!  Yes, “The Morning Phantom” they call me  because I deliver newspapers at 3—6 am.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my title and I love delivering papers. Just knowing I am partially responsible for the happiness a person gets when they step outside on a beautiful morning and there is their newsprint companion. I can smell the coffee brewing and hear the toast popping. I get my exercise and lots of fresh air. While I am walking, I think about my many novels and paintings.

I deliver the newspaper to Fiddlehead. Why is that a big deal? I don’t know, I have for many years and I don’t even know who lives there. I leave the paper, it is gone the next morning and I get a nice card with a good tip every Christmas. There is no name on the on subscription or the annual card. They just appreciate that I put it on the top step and that I deliver it before 5 am. Imagine my surprise when I heard someone is moving in!


Dolly—my mastiff and body guard. She goes wherever I go.