If you love something, let it go. Then see if it sends you an email. If it does, then hold on forever, because it’s probably all you have.

Well, I’m back. At the end of the summer, I started working on a project that eventually proved to require a different skill set than the one I currently possess (this is known as having a “lack of talent” in certain circles). It also required more time and energy than I was willing to put forth (that’s called “laziness” in similar circles).

At the outset, I was so enraptured by the concept of the project that I quit Coat & Tails completely. I sold my printer, took down my website, and told everyone that I was “officially done with it and working on something new.” When people asked me how the project was going, it went from “I’m drunk with inspiration!” to simply “I’m drunk!”

Indeed, as it became more and more clear that I couldn’t actualize my vision for the project, I’d increasingly watch television or engage in a very time- and money-consuming process called “online shopping,” which is something I’m by all accounts – especially that of my bank – not proud of.

I guess I’m being pretty hyperbolic here considering what is probably the norm when it comes to online shopping. I’m just very leery of turning into a pure consumer – someone who works all day and then comes home and spends their money on craft cocktails and gratuitous “gear” or home furnishings or whatever – so when I start buying things out of boredom – even once – I force-feed myself copious quantities of shame so as to keep myself in-line.

Thus, in the haze of my profound ennui, I purchased a “mountain” bicycle:

Even though I love bicycles, they’re such liabilities. Especially “mountain” bicycles, since they’re put through so much stress. There’s dirt and wet dirt (“mud” in some circles) and inevitable crashing (if you’re as unskilled as me) and also driving to trails – not to mention the time spent that could be better used learning about investing or sharpening workforce skills or meeting “basic hygiene” goals, the latter of which is probably the most difficult for me.

Outside of online shopping, the newfound boredom I experienced in the wake of my colossal failure of an art project also precipitated an inordinate number of feverish trips to the bowling alley. I joined a league, bought a ball, and went at least twice a week.

All of these are pretty tangible results of not having Coat & Tails to work on anymore. I mean what’s next, children?

That’s a life I’m simply not willing or capable of living.

Anyway, long story short, I hoped that another project would satisfy a different creative craving, but it didn’t, and, without a project, I was immensely bored. And as my boredom increased, I received some emails, such as the following, which made me feel like I had been taking what I had done with Coat & Tails for granted:

Hello. I just got through digging through thousands of pictures and screen shots on an external hard drive I used a couple years ago. I was searching for your Instagram page I knew that I saved, but couldn’t find it because I forgot the name. Finally found the screen shot and was extremely disappointed to see Coat & Tails is no longer active. Since you don’t do pet portraits anymore, I was hoping you could give me the name or website of someone who does or does something close to what you were doing. Scrolling through your Instagram pictures right now and I’m really bummed I missed out. You’re a great artist! If you ever decide to do pet portraits again, please let me know.

So after a certain point, it seemed dumb and naive to have quit, and now I’m back, so there you go.