My Annual birthday.

At the end of another year in my life, I take a look myself in the mirror and say “Well, old man? How about another?”

I always partake of another.

Living for twenty four years and opening that door with the number 25 carved into it. What’s going to happen in this new age? This new chapter of Noah Van Sciver??  I think that it’s high time I got to live like my idol, Scrooge Mcduck. 

I want to fulfill my childhood fantasy of swimming through my mountains of gold coins in misanthropic privacy. A filthy rich curmudgeon. I really hope I can make this happen for myself. 

In this 25th year, I want that guy who lives across the alley from me, Directly parallel to my window, to stop throwing his empty beer cans at my window with his   buddies. It is not a good game. It only causes me stress. And with my years piling up on me, the place I feel the pressure the most is on my heart. 

I’ve been working hard again on trying to get my drawing skill back where it was about 4 years ago. I, believe it or not, could draw anatomically correct, and worked hard to get there. Drawing portraits was my way of bringing in extra money when I was 19 and 20. But, I think I got myself into a different mindset when I started working at my cartoon style. And now, it’s weird to try to draw something in a more correct, straightforward style. Hopefully my 25th year will see me mature as an artist, and become more well-rounded. 

That’s what I’d like for my birthday.  

What else…

I would really love it if my friends could all live the way I think they should, and would if people would support them. I want Kilgore books to thrive and John Porcellino to be recognized as the national treasure that I think he is and be taken care of by the United States. It is hard to know people who give their whole lives to giving others some form of culture and they have to struggle to do it. 

Signing off,

This was, 

Noah Van Sciver at age 24

See you next age.