a certifiable signing

Somehow it felt like graffiti to sign my name to the inside sheet of a book. My scrawl, for a while my whole name (which felt odd), then relaxed into my proper signature (not terribly legible, which felt odd). It needed to be made official. Something along the lines of THIS IS NOT GRAFFITI.

I began inserting a card into each book, more calling card than business. A bookmark, whenever I had a stack at home. And then the rubber stamp.

Here's the new one. I love the ka-chunk of it, the unpredictable ink, sometimes thick and bleeding, other times faint and interrupted.

THIS IS NOT GRAFFITI.