Another year done gone. 97 and 98 were slow, demented years in my creative life. You don't live to be 60, 40, 20 without getting a few scars, a little character, a bit of wisdom and a whole lot of style. You just keep rolling, hoping next year will be a little easier and sweeter. I know my audience. You want landscapes, and I will deliver but these are my xanax, prozac, and stool softeners. You will have to swallow these pills along with me. Come 99, I will make it rain.