Maturity Is Over-Rated

Or so I’ve concluded.

My 47th birthday is just a few days away as I write this and I’ve been thinking recently that I’m as grown-up as I’m ever going to get.
And I’m ok with that.
I’m happy being an artist, happy being a guy who listens to punk rock and only owns one pair of Sensible Trousers (my work costume). I collect pop vinyl figures and strange little plastic toys, and I’ll likely never own a wine collection or a leather lounge suite.

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