Jan. 3rd, 2005

divalea: (headshots in street)
On the Beat this morning: Frank Kelly Freas died in his sleep this morning.

He was one of the loveliest people in science fiction, a real old-fashioned fella. I loved his stuff, studied it. I always enjoyed talking to him, he was sweet, funny and positive. When I was a kid, no question of mine about his work was too trivial or dumb.
Bought a book of his art and read it until it disintegrated. How he could convey so much in a simple, almost cartoony, image. The texture of his painting.
And, oh my god, he had a gorgeous signature, curly as the ends of his moustache.

But, ya know, I'M REALLY TIRED OF HAVING MY ASS WHIPPED EMOTIONALLY.
Lisa's father in law, her sister, King almost dying from a blood clot, being moved off Hardy Boys, a good friend's brother dying in an accident. Even the rats losing their babies.

ENOUGH already.

Last few hours of Hardy Boys. When I'm done, I'm going to get a pint of New York Super Fudge Chunk, red wine, and watch the last disc of The 10th Kingdom and have myself a good cry.
divalea: (Default)
Hardy Boys is done. Off my back. DONE.

And boy AM I IN A BAD MOOD.

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