The air was ripe with electricity as Fans gathered in the mild weather for round two of the counter normalcy.
‘The San Diego Comic Convention’.
A clash of genres rising up against a brilliant blue and clear sky.
They were chattering, the ‘tweens’, teens, and ageless art and story appreciators as they enjoyed the mild SD weather of my home towns ever illustrious, dubiously decorated convention of pop culture while mild mannered officers of the peace made sure 100,000 Nerds weren’t defeated by an on coming Red Bullet.
(whilst distracted by the flashing lights, dancing visuals and scantily clad ladies.)
It was my second day set loose upon the holy grounds of pop and deep cultural artistic expression. I started my journey in no particular order arriving later than I had planned. (I hear those snickers)
I set out to venture crossed the ground floor of the giant convention center to see if I could find some fun, test some games, get some scwag ( no luck) and familiar faces.
It has been over seven years since I attended a con, and I must say, while the effects of the economy are clear across vendors, artist and booth alike,belts tightened, paint tubes rolled thrice over; the enthusiasm for the event has NEVER been richer.
Authors, artist and enthusiast alike crowded the long tables of Artist (or as my spell check would say…arthritis) alley.
A place oozing with that treacherous mind bending juice of creativity.
It reeked of it, stank of ink.
It should be noted that deep inspiration, desire to work ridiculous hours on far fetched ideas is deeply, deeply infectious and can cause severe symptoms such as:
Finishing projects, getting my…your work in order. Finding the urge to thank strangers for their hard work, spontaneous smiling. (Very uncomfortable many social settings, especially funerals.) And being self amused. Symptom can be lasting, but will fade if creative places, people, oxygen an amoebas are avoided.