I like to stand in the studio.  I feel like I think better on my feet, both literally and figuratively.  I feel more alert and, in a weird way, more confident.  I can’t really explain that last one, but I’m certain that it has nothing to do with my actual height.  I’m not a tall fella.  My license lists me as 5’10”, but I am reminded every year at my annual physical that I ought to file that 5’10” under “yeah, you wish, Nick.”  At last measurement, I was 5’9 and somewhere between ¼ and ½.” 

So yeah, long rambling short, no one would ever ask me how the weather is up where I’m standing.

Normally I just stand on the floor…you know, like a person does.  But today, for some reason, I decided to stand on the base of my studio stool for a little bit.  It was incredible.  I felt so tall, so powerful, so much more aware of the horizon. 

“I’m king of the world!  I’m stilts man!  I’m in the circus!” 

Then I realized that the base of the stool is only about 5 inches off the ground.

“I’m king of the world!  I’m stilts man!  I’m in the circus!  I’m...wait…6’3”?” 

It’s so deflating to realize that plenty of people actually live in what I perceived to be extreme heights.  I am so jealous.  6’3” people: please help out all of us shorties when “Snowicane Eric” arrives later today.  You’ll know 5 inches before we do.