My shoe mistress. Or is that mistresses?

Ah a blank canvas for my stupid art. The sad truth is I don't want to wear these until I have them painted. I've got a few ideas that are runnoff from my 24 hour comic. All that Divine Comedy and Paradise Lost stuff that can really get a party going. So, shoes+art equals work trompers that make me feel like I'm not at work.

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Death of a Shoe

Well, they've had a good run, but its time to let these go. Note the hole in the side where rocks and mud get in and the lines in the souls where I cut more traction because I was sliding around on wet days. These things have lasted me three jobs and I don't know how many hiking trips. So I must move on...just not today.

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