The deaths of others is a topic that's been eating away at me... sudden death, the unexpected, uncertainty. It can be nerve-racking. I want the people that I care about to be a lot closer, so I can keep an eye on them. Particularly after Lew called yesterday and opened with "Well, I almost got killed today." Brush with a cement truck that forced him off the road. He's not hurt, but... it doesn't take much to get the fear glands pumping.
Also, according to my father, Alzheimer's seems to be the diagnosis for my grandfather, who turned 88 on February 2nd. He's begun thinking that his mother visits every morning. I hate that disease. I never want to grow to be so old. Suicide is attractive as a means of controlling the inevitable, in the face of the fact that the point of life appears not to have control over that at all.
Whatever. Here's a drawing I started shortly after hearing about Miss Leonard. It's not dedicated to her, mostly because it has little to do with her or the person I knew her as; it's just not in her more upbeat spirit. It was more a way to vent my own frustrations.