Had an odd dream last night. This is hardly unprecedented. I have fucking odd dreams.

This one was set in a Butlins-styled holiday camp in Philadelphia, which seemed to look a damn sight more like LA. My Girlfriend and I, for reasons too complicated to explain, get distracted on our travels to help Stuart from Belle and Sebastian set up his new Music shop. This is more like a Book Store, and is staffed by a variety of people from the Bath Underground who I never speak too. As a guest for the opening, Will Eisner is doing a signing, which excited me somewhat. However, due to embarassment, can't really think of saying anything to say. He offers to sign a copy some Eisner stuff that's on me, but I refuse, saying it's all someone elses copies, and they might not like it. I end up explaining why I'm so shy to a couple of Mafiosa men, while my girlfriend bonds with Eisner, who invites her on his birthday celebrations that are happening in a few weeks - it seems he lives in the West of England, and does Ad Jingles to make some extra money. At some point I mention to him I want to tell stories.

Everyone's leaving, but I catch up with Eisner as he's getting to the his giant 18-Wheeler truck - though he's slowly starting to mutate into an Alan-Moore-esque figure, but one who's been stretched on the wrack. He asks me if I really want to be a storyteller. I say yes. He gives me some advice. He says that I should aim at one thing - be it high, medium or low culture, and it's better to aim at the low. I ask him what's most important in making it.

He tells me two things. The latter of them I lose in the dream-waking - it was something odd like "parity" or some other synonym for equality.

The first of the pair?

Fear.

I woke up.

Natalie showed me the finished pencils for HIT 5. I love comics.