Red dots of joyfulness.

All you steppers out there lookin' sharp: thank you one hundred dollar bills flying through the air like one hundred seagulls; I have no other way of putting it. I am feeling a great lot of thankfulness. Thank you for coming, standing awkwardly, being fish out of water, being too cool, not being cool enough, being supportive, making fun of the other artists (DAD), spilling wine, laughing, craning necks, looking at my photography with your noses an inch away just trying to understand why I chose what I chose. Thank you BETHHHHHHHHHH for the stunning flowers sent all the way from two provinces to the west. HO-ly. I cried upon collection. I was floored. You are incredible. Thank you.

Thank you mum for buying the one print for your bathroom that I thought no one would notice. Thank you Marj, Jim, Rick, Karen, Grandpa, Grandma, Daryl, Pete and lady (I was too faded to remember a name), Jenny, Erin, Derek, Rabbi, Andrew, Meach, Shira, Janique, Josh, Janessa, Alfie, Mum and Dad and er'body else who booked off and made an appearance even though there were one hundred other things going on in the city yesterday. So many times last night I stood back to stop dancing or walking or drinking to just look at everybody being so joyful in that gross, white washed room. Just stop to watch everybody who came out to support somebody, not necessarily me. But for those of you who made time for me, I am so grateful. Thank you. The show was a great success. All of the people on my mental checklist came and were duly ticked off in thanksgiving. Four of six pieces were claimed and I am psyched to think of my prints in these peoples' bedrooms and bathrooms and living rooms and whatnot.

Loco and JJ, you were duly missed as well and your respective phone calls made me choke up when it came time to press the number seven on my mobile's keypad to delete your hopeful and well-wishing singsong voices. It wasn't the same without the two of you. The dance floors are never the same without you two. We did cut a rug until 4:30, but it is never the same.

Here are some photos courtesy of my mother. I was very joyful in all of them.