The good life

If I were hit by a truck on my way home tonight, I would die a happy woman.

I just spent some 20 minutes working on a pixel-by-pixel cutout of Michael Phelps, from his chest up to his sinewy, victoriously outstretched arms; close-up on his face frozen in a primal scream of triumph.

And then I didn't get to use it.

But those were 20 of the most enjoyable minutes I've had in a long time.