Let me explain,
A year ago the potboilers came screaming into the world. 14 lbs and 6 ounces of quirky optimism covered in warm placenta, endless comic adventures seamed inevitable. It’s two fathers, joined in love and admiration, cared and nurtured their beloved with constant attention. A month, two months, their baby was walking at a brisk pace, wide eyed and focused on the future. Then a stone in the path, a separation of space and time that no form of technology could bridge. All attempts to care for their child were befuddled by the incongruities of separate lives wedging further away by the day. As each dad attempted to carve out a piece of the professional pie, potboilers was neglected. Finally the slow and sporadic updates and additions stopped all together and Potboilers sat unattended, in a dark corner of the internet while the two men’s careers carried on.
Fast forward 6 whole months, and we find both dads well set in their separate worlds. Greg’s slightly neurotic tenancies have imploded, molding a man who’s ambitions cry over the noises of his internal emergency functions. He’s headed on the rock star path that starts hard and fast and ends in one of two ways, death or glory.
David picked a random metropolis and began to build a nest. His career path has him facilitating the rolling pile that is the corporate world. 95% of print design ends up in a land fill within a week of rolling off the presses ( I made that up to sound more tragic, I have no idea what the percentage is but I’m sure it’s a lot). His creative outlets have been cut off one by one like limbs in the band saw. This brings us to the present, as David desperately searches for his creative roots the potboilers calls out to him. Like the giving tree, it has a purpose again and delights at the attention. Change is in the air, where greg and dave were a well oiled machine of checks and balances, david’s cooped up ideas have a tendency to vomit on to page and become half cocked concepts of the ridicules nature. Prepare for rough seas ahead.