last night I lived 300 days in my fictional life.
I became a struggling artist in a matter of minutes. I broke willow charcoal, drew a foot, drew a face that Nick offered me $7,000 for saying "You can buy as many pairs of jeans as you want with that money", quit while I was ahead, and then proceeded to go on tour with my band. we played a couple gigs before it was time for a break and I continued my solo tour as a drummer. finished up in Rio de Janeiro and moved on to London, then Paris, and stopped before our Chicago concert because frankly, I was tired.
a foot, a face, and two continents later and I'm dreaming of drum beat combinations.. my right foot tapping with restless bass drum syndrome.
this is my life in fiction. it's so much more exciting don't you think?