Contemplating Despair

(Pencil on Paper; Digital Color)

Aesthetically, I’m a fan of fall. Gourds, cozy snuggle clothes, nice fires, the return of stews and other hearty fare….

However. My brain perceives the season as existential threat and throws up every alarm. They’re sad, battery-dying, waning alarms, because they’re the harbingers of crushing depression, which is not known for its enthusiastic vibe, but they do their best.