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.