Inked four pages in under four hours last night. This makes me happy. I hope to get the other five inked and on the painting board before the weekend is out.
I typically have two thoughts running through my head while I’m inking. The first is “If I lived here, I’d be home by now,” meaning that if I didn’t have to paint these friggin’ pages, I’d probably be long done with this book and well into the next. The second thought is largely unprintable, as it is rarely more than an incoherent string of profanity directed at my inability to ink.