So I spent (wasted) several hours today going through old writing. I couldn't find what I was looking for which means I'll probably have to turn on my old piece o' shit e-machine to get at it.
However I did find a poem I wrote during my senior year of college when I should have been working on a paper. I had stolen some lilies from the opening of the senior show and they were just disgustingly slutty. Pretty though. Also they set off all my allergies.
Bright, brazen petals entreat, "Come, delve into my soft folds. Plumb the sweet nectar of my depths."
The heads of turgid, upthrust pistils glisten and drip with clear, sticky sap. The stamens, erect and velvety, beg for something, anything, to rub against them and relieve them of the thick coating of pollen that has made them so thick, flushed and dark.
The flowers accost passersby with their intoxicating scent, fairly shouting, "Come on baby! Pollinate me! Fuck yeah!"
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Some Cartoons
I thought I would share my work from class 2 at Animation Mentor. I went a little crazy from stress so am currently taking a break and will restart class 3 in January. I won't show you any of the work from my abortive class 3 attempt because it was all...not ghastly, just half finished. I was never able to put time into any of it to get it up to the (my) required standard. But I liked what I did for class 2.
1st Project- Side Step (turned into more of a hop)
2nd Project- Dive
3rd Project- Dance (this dance was a bit over ambitious because this dude was a crazy awesome dancer, but even though it still needs work (re: arm flailing) I'm pleased with most of it)
1st Project- Side Step (turned into more of a hop)
2nd Project- Dive
3rd Project- Dance (this dance was a bit over ambitious because this dude was a crazy awesome dancer, but even though it still needs work (re: arm flailing) I'm pleased with most of it)
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Things that make me sob uncontrollably
OK, so I was having a discussion with a friend about Kermit the Frog and I had a sudden urge to listen to A Frog and His Boy.
And as I was drying my eyes I started thinking about other things I have this reaction to. I mean, yeah I cry at lots of things. I could put Schindler's List or Saving Private Ryan on this list (there's a whole category opposite this of things that make me cry but that I hate having that reaction to, like stupid chick flicks), but I was thinking of things I repeatedly expose myself to willingly, knowing it will make be cry but just not caring.
The list isn't as long as I'd expect but then I'm probably forgetting things.
1) The aforementioned A Frog and His Boy
2) Jurassic Bark ie: The episode of Futurama about Fry's dog
3) Luck of the Fryrish ie: The episode of Futurama about Fry's brother
4) Fried Green Tomatoes, the only confirmed 'chick flick' in my movie collection actually.
That isn't actually a scene that makes me cry (except maybe for the poor little red bug) but it's what popped up in my youtube search and it's awesome.
5) Amelie
This one actually feels like kind of a cheat because it never provokes sad tears, just joyous ones. But I wanted to round out the list so that it wasn't half Futurama episodes
6) Just remembered this one, the final episode of Blackadder book IV: Goodbyeee
This one just isn't fair. SPOILER ALERT! (if you're worried about spoilers for a show that's 20 years old...) The thing is at the end of every book the entire cast dies. And it's funny. It's always funny. But not this time. This time all of Blackadder's scheming has been to just get away from the war and keep himself alive. When they go over the top and the smoke fades away to a poppy field I defy you not to sob.
One more sort of entry, it did not make the official list but I think an honorable mention should go out to this specific scene from Ratatouille.
The clip is 4 minutes long but the relevant bit is in the first 57 seconds. It doesn't make the cut because it only makes me teary, not cry and also if I start counting the weepy moments from Pixar movies we'll be here all day.
And as I was drying my eyes I started thinking about other things I have this reaction to. I mean, yeah I cry at lots of things. I could put Schindler's List or Saving Private Ryan on this list (there's a whole category opposite this of things that make me cry but that I hate having that reaction to, like stupid chick flicks), but I was thinking of things I repeatedly expose myself to willingly, knowing it will make be cry but just not caring.
The list isn't as long as I'd expect but then I'm probably forgetting things.
1) The aforementioned A Frog and His Boy
2) Jurassic Bark ie: The episode of Futurama about Fry's dog
3) Luck of the Fryrish ie: The episode of Futurama about Fry's brother
4) Fried Green Tomatoes, the only confirmed 'chick flick' in my movie collection actually.
That isn't actually a scene that makes me cry (except maybe for the poor little red bug) but it's what popped up in my youtube search and it's awesome.
5) Amelie
This one actually feels like kind of a cheat because it never provokes sad tears, just joyous ones. But I wanted to round out the list so that it wasn't half Futurama episodes
6) Just remembered this one, the final episode of Blackadder book IV: Goodbyeee
This one just isn't fair. SPOILER ALERT! (if you're worried about spoilers for a show that's 20 years old...) The thing is at the end of every book the entire cast dies. And it's funny. It's always funny. But not this time. This time all of Blackadder's scheming has been to just get away from the war and keep himself alive. When they go over the top and the smoke fades away to a poppy field I defy you not to sob.
One more sort of entry, it did not make the official list but I think an honorable mention should go out to this specific scene from Ratatouille.
The clip is 4 minutes long but the relevant bit is in the first 57 seconds. It doesn't make the cut because it only makes me teary, not cry and also if I start counting the weepy moments from Pixar movies we'll be here all day.
Monday, July 18, 2011
New Beginning
So Intrepid Space Heroes is doing weird things. I decided that I didn't like the place where I had started the story in the one comic I actually posted last September. So since then I have nearly finished a new start page but halfway through coloring it I've changed my mind again.
Part of my problem is that I have a lot of characters with way a lot of backstory and I'm impatient to share it all. I had decided to pause the actual start and try and crank out a little self contained story about Terry on a dinosaur planet and I have spent the last couple months designing a queen of the Terror Birds.
Last week though I had a weird dream about being dropped in a giant marketplace/cityscape that was a man made island. All the floors where winding sloping grated pathways that spidered in and out of huge open domes. While dwelling on this dream at work it occurred to me that this would be the perfect setting for a bit of an origin story reminiscent of the opening scene in the first episode of Firefly. A little blurb from the department of backstory as it were.
If you want to do me a favor let me know what you'd rather see. Vote 1 for Terry and the Terror Birds, 2 for The As Yet Untitled Origin Story.
Part of my problem is that I have a lot of characters with way a lot of backstory and I'm impatient to share it all. I had decided to pause the actual start and try and crank out a little self contained story about Terry on a dinosaur planet and I have spent the last couple months designing a queen of the Terror Birds.
Last week though I had a weird dream about being dropped in a giant marketplace/cityscape that was a man made island. All the floors where winding sloping grated pathways that spidered in and out of huge open domes. While dwelling on this dream at work it occurred to me that this would be the perfect setting for a bit of an origin story reminiscent of the opening scene in the first episode of Firefly. A little blurb from the department of backstory as it were.
If you want to do me a favor let me know what you'd rather see. Vote 1 for Terry and the Terror Birds, 2 for The As Yet Untitled Origin Story.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Raw Blog #1
This is the last time I will apologize for a large gap between posts. Sorry I am a bad blogger.
On to the meat of this post...
This is Bertie. He is a 2 lb miniature poodle puppy. No worries, Amelie is still kicking but I have wanted another dog for a loooong time. I was wait listed for this little guy for over a year. And now he is here.
And so begins our adventures with raw food. The same research that lead me to positive reinforcement training for The Poodle has also made me want to try a raw diet. I don't really want to give a whole run down as I am not an expert on this but for those not familiar with the term a raw diet is exactly what it sounds like. Instead of a kibble full of fillers and meat from unknown sources you feed your dog whole bones and meat and offal and depending on your stripes veggies (some raw feeders are adamant that vegetables are unnecessary, others say their dogs just like them and seem to seek them out).
The result is a much happier and healthier dog. Dogs on raw diets have brighter eyes and shinier coats and blindingly white teeth. Since I got Bertie I have been feeding him (and Amelie) a partial raw diet (I was buying a pre-made raw mix and feeding that primarily along with a high quality canned food and a high quality kibble). A couple days ago we had a play date with another poodle puppy his exact age and Bertie had easily three times as much energy. The other puppy kept winding down and taking nap breaks but Bertie was good to run around for the full three-ish hours (and after). So I was already feeling good about their food.
But I've been doing some more reading the past couple days and realized that they are missing out with the pre-ground food. They miss out on the teeth cleaning and the work for food aspect that I already know Amelie loves. So I decided to switch to the real thing.
Today was actually our second official day with a raw diet. Yesterday they had sardines at lunch and chicken feet for dinner. Today Bertie had (more of the same) chicken foot again and I gave Amelie a beef short rib. I wish I could have cut the thing in half because it was waaaay too big for her. She managed most of it but is now super full and since she's on the pudgy side I'm thinking tomorrow for dinner she's just gonna get the one last sardine. I may get a hack saw or something to chop these bones down in future.
Bertie did very well with the chicken foot today after I scored it down the middle. His little teeth were having trouble denting the hide. Amelie looked like a portrait of a saint in ecstasy. They spent the better part of an hour working on their food. After the chicken foot yesterday Amelie was so excited for dinner tonight. She didn't even know what I had planned but she was shaking from excitement. Even the greediest chow hound at work doesn't show that kind of enthusiasm for food.
This is still primarily an art blog (no really!) but I have decided to chronicle this experiment for posterity. Last November the vet told me that Amelie would need her teeth scaled (again) sometime in the next year. I have been dreading it because even though he told me it would only cost "a couple hundred dollars" I know that it frequently costs $600 and up and I just don't have that kind of money right now. I've been doing dental chews and trying and mostly failing to remember to brush her teeth and they aren't that bad. Some tartar around the gumline but it's not too bad. I am interested to see when/if the new food starts to make a difference.
On to the meat of this post...
This is Bertie. He is a 2 lb miniature poodle puppy. No worries, Amelie is still kicking but I have wanted another dog for a loooong time. I was wait listed for this little guy for over a year. And now he is here.
And so begins our adventures with raw food. The same research that lead me to positive reinforcement training for The Poodle has also made me want to try a raw diet. I don't really want to give a whole run down as I am not an expert on this but for those not familiar with the term a raw diet is exactly what it sounds like. Instead of a kibble full of fillers and meat from unknown sources you feed your dog whole bones and meat and offal and depending on your stripes veggies (some raw feeders are adamant that vegetables are unnecessary, others say their dogs just like them and seem to seek them out).
The result is a much happier and healthier dog. Dogs on raw diets have brighter eyes and shinier coats and blindingly white teeth. Since I got Bertie I have been feeding him (and Amelie) a partial raw diet (I was buying a pre-made raw mix and feeding that primarily along with a high quality canned food and a high quality kibble). A couple days ago we had a play date with another poodle puppy his exact age and Bertie had easily three times as much energy. The other puppy kept winding down and taking nap breaks but Bertie was good to run around for the full three-ish hours (and after). So I was already feeling good about their food.
But I've been doing some more reading the past couple days and realized that they are missing out with the pre-ground food. They miss out on the teeth cleaning and the work for food aspect that I already know Amelie loves. So I decided to switch to the real thing.
Today was actually our second official day with a raw diet. Yesterday they had sardines at lunch and chicken feet for dinner. Today Bertie had (more of the same) chicken foot again and I gave Amelie a beef short rib. I wish I could have cut the thing in half because it was waaaay too big for her. She managed most of it but is now super full and since she's on the pudgy side I'm thinking tomorrow for dinner she's just gonna get the one last sardine. I may get a hack saw or something to chop these bones down in future.
Bertie did very well with the chicken foot today after I scored it down the middle. His little teeth were having trouble denting the hide. Amelie looked like a portrait of a saint in ecstasy. They spent the better part of an hour working on their food. After the chicken foot yesterday Amelie was so excited for dinner tonight. She didn't even know what I had planned but she was shaking from excitement. Even the greediest chow hound at work doesn't show that kind of enthusiasm for food.
This is still primarily an art blog (no really!) but I have decided to chronicle this experiment for posterity. Last November the vet told me that Amelie would need her teeth scaled (again) sometime in the next year. I have been dreading it because even though he told me it would only cost "a couple hundred dollars" I know that it frequently costs $600 and up and I just don't have that kind of money right now. I've been doing dental chews and trying and mostly failing to remember to brush her teeth and they aren't that bad. Some tartar around the gumline but it's not too bad. I am interested to see when/if the new food starts to make a difference.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Proof that I think too much...
I did some Superman doodles with my awesome new cheapass ballpoint pen and my fantabulous markers.
So, somehow despite the fact that it should be utterly ridiculous, this is a snazzy outfit. I didn't have quite the right shade of yellow but it works OK. His waxy tan is courtesy of Crayola and their classic "peach" that's as close as most marker sets come to a Caucasian skin tone.
Anyway, I just wonder how the hell this thing works.
Is it a onesy?
He's gotta stretch the neck and step into the thing? And then it sort of snaps taut when it gets into place. That would explain why it's always one piece hanging in the closet. Or is it...
Separates?
Hey, the man wears tight boots in all kinds of weather. Arctic chill, deep space. He probably needs some warm socks. His mother probably knit those for him. So don't knock the socks. So maybe it's four pieces which seems less silly than the onesy. Obviously the belt is magic and keeps all the pieces stuck together in combat.
The image of the Man of Steel putting on stockings was too powerful to resist. I like to think that inside the red panties is a hidden garter system. I call that circus stool the Super Poof. I think it demonstrates clearly why the yellow needs to be downplayed in the outfit. I love the drape of the cape in this one and his pushed out ass.
And now that these drawings are done I can stop thinking about this.
ETA: There is something delightful about drawing Superman's toes.
So, somehow despite the fact that it should be utterly ridiculous, this is a snazzy outfit. I didn't have quite the right shade of yellow but it works OK. His waxy tan is courtesy of Crayola and their classic "peach" that's as close as most marker sets come to a Caucasian skin tone.
Anyway, I just wonder how the hell this thing works.
Is it a onesy?
He's gotta stretch the neck and step into the thing? And then it sort of snaps taut when it gets into place. That would explain why it's always one piece hanging in the closet. Or is it...
Separates?
Hey, the man wears tight boots in all kinds of weather. Arctic chill, deep space. He probably needs some warm socks. His mother probably knit those for him. So don't knock the socks. So maybe it's four pieces which seems less silly than the onesy. Obviously the belt is magic and keeps all the pieces stuck together in combat.
The image of the Man of Steel putting on stockings was too powerful to resist. I like to think that inside the red panties is a hidden garter system. I call that circus stool the Super Poof. I think it demonstrates clearly why the yellow needs to be downplayed in the outfit. I love the drape of the cape in this one and his pushed out ass.
And now that these drawings are done I can stop thinking about this.
ETA: There is something delightful about drawing Superman's toes.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Hair!
I've been feeling down lately for various reasons, mostly because of the delay to start AM (instead of January, now I have to wait till April). So yesterday as part of a program to combat this state, I went in to get my hair cut. My hair was long and crazy and out of control, plus I like having it cut. It is relaxing for me. So it was gonna be a nice relaxing feel good time.
I tried to get an appointment with the girl who did it last time because she was very good. But the only opening she had was at 6 am. Because yeah, I wanna get up that early on my day off. So I decided to take an appointment yesterday afternoon instead with somebody else. I've been going to this place for over a year and I've had a different stylist each time and I've never yet been disappointed. Well there was one who didn't cut anything short enough but that wasn't a big deal. The point is I wasn't worried about a new person because everybody there is good.
Or so I thought.
I got there actually about 5 minutes late and I felt really bad about it. But that guilt kind of evaporated after 15, then 20 minutes went by and I had yet to see my stylist. There were two receptionists, one who just ignored me and another who didn't talk to me but I could hear fussing with the other girls about the fact that I wasn't being taken care of. Finally she comes and introduces herself and tells me that my stylist is a little behind so just to get things moving, she's going to do my shampoo.
I go ahead and assume that she is actually a stylist in addition to the receptionist and let her shampoo me. She mentioned sort of offhand that she was going to give me a free chemical treatment of some kind since I'd had to wait so long. She didn't actually tell me what it was or what it did, but it did necessitate my sitting with my cold wet hair back in the sink for 5 minutes, so that was...a bonus?
Then I finally get to my stylist who does apologize and then I assume she's going to blow dry my hair since it is completely wet and I have never seen her before so she has no idea what it is like. She doesn't blow dry it. She doesn't even ask me about my hair. She just says, "It looks like you've had it in an a-line bob before?"
I told her that was correct, that I wanted it like that again, very short. Just long enough in front to tuck behind my ears.
She says, "As short as you're describing it it doesn't really sound like a bob anymore." I just shrugged because I didn't want to argue semantics. So I take off my glasses (without which I am close to blind) and close my eyes. When I open them again I can see from the blob in the mirror that she has taken off way to much hair. The shape is completely wrong. What she has done is more along the lines of a pixie cut.
It's not a poorly executed haircut, but it is completely not what I asked for, and no offense to any old ladies in my readership, it's a haircut appropriate for someone a couple decades older than me. To top it all off, the cut was about $10 more than usual. I didn't bother to ask why. Even the obligatory compliment by the receptionists when I left was pretty lackluster.
The whole thing was really disappointing, and now I don't know if I ever want to go back there.
I went home and tried to figure out what to do about it. I'm not really fussy about my hair, but it was pretty bad when I went in, and it wasn't a whole lot better coming out again. I didn't get the confidence boost that I needed at all. Plus the haircut sucked and I didn't want to pay somebody else to do it again. So I decided, "Fuck it." I've thought about shaving my head before, and I've always wanted to crazy colors.
Space Cases anyone?
So I decided to dye it. Then I figured I could alter the cut as needed.
Today I went and got some bleach and some Manic Panic in Atomic Turquoise and Red Passion (which is totally pink), and I went to town.
This is what I started with. Bleh right? Yeah.
Here I am after the first round of bleach. I look like that guy form the Food Network. Guy Frizzeti? Something like that. There were a couple spots I missed, plus it was a little orange still in the back. So I went in under again for 40 more minutes. Then I thought to take that picture of my stylish bleach cap there.
Then followed some agonizing and calling and texting various people to get opinions on the proper ratio and distribution of Atomic Turquoise to Red Passion (which is totally pink and has the lamest name of all the Manic Panic colors). I also didn't have vaseline to put around my ears and hairline to prevent stains, and I contemplated going to the store but again, I am impatient plus I'd already spent enough on supplies even without counting the initial cost of the crappy haircut. So I headed back into the bathroom and figured I'd wing it.
Tada!
I tried to get an appointment with the girl who did it last time because she was very good. But the only opening she had was at 6 am. Because yeah, I wanna get up that early on my day off. So I decided to take an appointment yesterday afternoon instead with somebody else. I've been going to this place for over a year and I've had a different stylist each time and I've never yet been disappointed. Well there was one who didn't cut anything short enough but that wasn't a big deal. The point is I wasn't worried about a new person because everybody there is good.
Or so I thought.
I got there actually about 5 minutes late and I felt really bad about it. But that guilt kind of evaporated after 15, then 20 minutes went by and I had yet to see my stylist. There were two receptionists, one who just ignored me and another who didn't talk to me but I could hear fussing with the other girls about the fact that I wasn't being taken care of. Finally she comes and introduces herself and tells me that my stylist is a little behind so just to get things moving, she's going to do my shampoo.
I go ahead and assume that she is actually a stylist in addition to the receptionist and let her shampoo me. She mentioned sort of offhand that she was going to give me a free chemical treatment of some kind since I'd had to wait so long. She didn't actually tell me what it was or what it did, but it did necessitate my sitting with my cold wet hair back in the sink for 5 minutes, so that was...a bonus?
Then I finally get to my stylist who does apologize and then I assume she's going to blow dry my hair since it is completely wet and I have never seen her before so she has no idea what it is like. She doesn't blow dry it. She doesn't even ask me about my hair. She just says, "It looks like you've had it in an a-line bob before?"
I told her that was correct, that I wanted it like that again, very short. Just long enough in front to tuck behind my ears.
She says, "As short as you're describing it it doesn't really sound like a bob anymore." I just shrugged because I didn't want to argue semantics. So I take off my glasses (without which I am close to blind) and close my eyes. When I open them again I can see from the blob in the mirror that she has taken off way to much hair. The shape is completely wrong. What she has done is more along the lines of a pixie cut.
It's not a poorly executed haircut, but it is completely not what I asked for, and no offense to any old ladies in my readership, it's a haircut appropriate for someone a couple decades older than me. To top it all off, the cut was about $10 more than usual. I didn't bother to ask why. Even the obligatory compliment by the receptionists when I left was pretty lackluster.
The whole thing was really disappointing, and now I don't know if I ever want to go back there.
I went home and tried to figure out what to do about it. I'm not really fussy about my hair, but it was pretty bad when I went in, and it wasn't a whole lot better coming out again. I didn't get the confidence boost that I needed at all. Plus the haircut sucked and I didn't want to pay somebody else to do it again. So I decided, "Fuck it." I've thought about shaving my head before, and I've always wanted to crazy colors.
Space Cases anyone?So I decided to dye it. Then I figured I could alter the cut as needed.
Today I went and got some bleach and some Manic Panic in Atomic Turquoise and Red Passion (which is totally pink), and I went to town.
This is what I started with. Bleh right? Yeah.
Here I am after the first round of bleach. I look like that guy form the Food Network. Guy Frizzeti? Something like that. There were a couple spots I missed, plus it was a little orange still in the back. So I went in under again for 40 more minutes. Then I thought to take that picture of my stylish bleach cap there.
Here it is all frosty and I really liked it actually. It came out really well. No chemical burns or anything. I debated for a bit about whether I should wait a few days to let my hair "rest" as the stylists say. I decided not to because I am impatient.
Then followed some agonizing and calling and texting various people to get opinions on the proper ratio and distribution of Atomic Turquoise to Red Passion (which is totally pink and has the lamest name of all the Manic Panic colors). I also didn't have vaseline to put around my ears and hairline to prevent stains, and I contemplated going to the store but again, I am impatient plus I'd already spent enough on supplies even without counting the initial cost of the crappy haircut. So I headed back into the bathroom and figured I'd wing it.
Tada!
The pink goes all the way around the back and sides, then there's the streak that starts at the bangs. There are still a few places with blond sticking out, and a couple spots where the colors bled. Fortunately Atomic Turquoise and Red Passion blend into a lovely purple. I'm rather pleased with it, although this might get old fast. Next thing on my list is to dye the poodle. Just a little. And just pink.
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