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Señora's dance has no title...
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| | Current Music: | "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" in my head. Damn Jaqueline Carey. | | Subject: | Misc: Phedré a Go Go | | Time: | 05:57 pm |
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| Despite the world's best efforts, I am not in fact dead. Not only that, but my copious amount of time alone at the moment warrants me spending all my time making stuff again.
On a random note, I'd love to have a story/book called "If Only". I just like the sound, look, and interpretations of those two words together.
Anyhoodle, I'm off to finally see "Coraline" ... in friggin' 3-D! | comments: Leave a comment   |
| Not my usual thing, but the Doctor Who Christmas special actually prompted me to do some fanart, due to the unabashed awesomeness that is Miss Hartigan. Particularly the saucy awesomeness that was her graveyard rendevous with the aforementioned gentlemen.
( Full 12x8.5 under here )
I did not, in fact, try to coordinate my icon with my fanart, but there you have it.
In other news, I have about ten new kinds of tea to try. I'm irrationally excited by this. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| Man, have I lost my knack for ceremony. I've un-privatized the old list, edited it for appropriate disappointment and triumph, and racked up some new wishes here (along with some of the old ones...*cough*)
( Cut for obvious lack of interest from most folks )
I'd be more sentimental, and such, but since Tycho's condition worsened, I'm doing posting and arting at the office off the clock, and it's nearing ten or so now.
Time to kick this year in the ass, I say. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Or, Since I'm Going To Hell Already, I Might As Well.
Namely, we're covering this little number:
According to the cover, this is little Rebecca's copy.
I found it on the shelf at work, cartridge intact, bargain bin price tag and all. Now, if you do a wee little google search, you can find lots of info, videos of gameplay, and even play it yourself.
( However, I haven't seen any place that displayed the nuggets of joy and wisdom to be found in... )
And that's why life is beautiful.
And fucked up.
But mostly beautiful. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Oh, Dubya. Just..... Just leave already.
(Probably my favorite)
My reaction to the whole affair?
Okay, I'm done with the GIFs.
...
Because there's a flash game, too. | | comments: Leave a comment |
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What?
What? It's a fun song, and I tried to tag along for the empty apartment/tribal army motif, but then you lost me on the space ship.
And since all I get from your video for "Heartless" is that you had a lover's spat with Judy Jetson, I officially ... kinda sorta ...don't get you.
Akira notwithstanding. It's fun when you find out random famous people are huge geeks. | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| * Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
* Turn to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post that sentence along with these instructions on your LJ.
* Don't dig for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual. Use the CLOSEST.
A portion of the page from the bigantic "Comic Book Tattoo", a collection of wildly different artists making comics inspired by Tori Amos songs. In keeping with the meme, the fifth line from this illustration's song is "girls when they fall".
I'm a dork. A big old dorky dork. Dorky Dork and the Funky Bunch.
Let's see how badass I can be in the making of the comics today, shall we? Two pages for this weekend are starting..... now! | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Tags: | ordinary | | Current Music: | I feel like the Benny Hill theme music sounds, if that makes any sense.... | | Subject: | Ordinary. | | Time: | 07:20 pm | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/roshi/palefaces/artistic.gif) on the right track |
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What in buggeredy hell is this nonsense?
Actually, I've been updating the past five weeks. I've been so ashamed of how much I missed I kind of kept to myself (in a lot of ways. Sorry Mike, Tom, and Mai! D:)
Just in case you're just tuning in, here's some shortcuts.
Start reading from the beginning.
Start reading from the last time I went AWOL.
But yes, it's coming along, and the only reason I'm not coloring the next update is that there's job related shenanigans to delightfully try, as well as thumbnails for the next set of pages and a few other things I'd really love to have done by December.
Alsoalso, I finally got off my keister and made a profile page, for the rest of internet that I've met and have yet to meet. I was unaware of this, but typifying myself as a "ladlass" was a cause for some folks to not say "hello". Damn shame, that. | | comments: Leave a comment |
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And no, I have no idea why.
On the plus side, my hair actually looks like that. Color me tickled. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Back on the wagon, so to speak, after a strange and magical period of confusion, scrambling, lackluster artistic skill level, and (admittedly willful) unemployment. Also, I've grown addicted to ONTD_Political, which has resulted in me being A)Much more informed about the world around be, B)Much more pissy about said world... but with a reason now! C)Acquiring partisan T-shirts, and D)Developing girlcrushes on Rachel Maddow and Ségolène Royal (and Yulia Tymoshenko, though she's more in the vein of "D'awwwdorable")
-Paint sketches have continued, bringing the total up to five, and learning so much every time.
-Ordinary is back with a page, and while I wasn't going to say anything, the fact that being away for TWENTY FOUR weeks and actually managing at least a modicum of coloring mojo back has encouraged me enough to pipe up. I forgot how much of my subconscious happiness revolved around updating this thing on time.
( After the cut: Filler doodles for Ordinary in which I unknowingly lied! )
Also, according to some meme I found tucked in ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) straya's journal, I have to quote something from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". I only saw probably the first disc of season one, but here goes.
Monster: RAAAAR!
Buffy: OW!
I love watching action oriented shows with closed captioning. | | comments: Leave a comment |
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There's something about the meaning of life for me in Donny Osmond right there.
No, I'm being serious. Rather, I am serious, while trying not to be.
*sigh* Okay. In high school, in what was an astounding effort on the part of my 15 year old self to join in any kind of group activity, I actually tried out for a play. I basically picked up a script, wandered onstage, and dry read (horribly) a minor character. It was particularly hilarious because I was playing it straight, when I realized halfway through that the character was supposed to be crying uncontrollably. In two words: Epic Fail. However, there came along a student who wanted to audition, but no one would read the lead female character with him. With a shrug, I volunteered. I'd already had my shot, with unintentionally hilarious results, so another cold read in front of the school director's desk wouldn't kill me on my way out the door.
Thus I got the lead female part.
I know high school stories are silly to muse over, and I really don't remember much of that time of my life at all. I was a dour, sexless tomboy; as average as they come. In the measure of both sentences I still very much am to a degree. Yet time and again, people look at me and see something very, very different.
Basically, if there's a point at all to musing on this is that the world in general has assumed a great deal more of me than I've been prepared to contend with. Everyone always seems to want to be the hero, but when I look at a screen or a page with the tableau of characters before me, I gravitate to the sidekick. Even my own boyfriend, enamored of the heroines in his Ayn Rand novels, makes lofty comparisons. We've honestly had discussions (the closest we get to actual "fights") where I literally ask him when he's going to catch on and realize that I'm really nothing like that.
I miss being with my roomate, Maianne. A lot. She and I had fun. In terms of bouncing off each other, she was the mystically capable, prepared, and intelligent figure of the household, whereas my continued residence in that house seemed to hinge more on my ability to lip synch and pantomime to the occasional power ballad with gusto than the actual payment of rent.
This is also why I am delighted that Tom, perhaps the only person in my life to have witnessed said high school events, is now actually living in this city now. He has no illusions, about me or about much of anything else for that matter. While Mai and I were George Milton and Lennie Small, respectively, Tom and I are more Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Or maybe Brian and Stewie. A nightmare behind the wheel of a car either way.
It's pretty easy to guess where it comes from. I'm not the nicest person ever, bordering on downright snarky on occasion. And then there's the pathos, OH the supposed, undeserved pathos. No, people, it's not called being dark and mysterious. It's called being whiny, and a lot of it. The thing with sidekicks that's so great is that they don't have to change throughout the story, because they're happy with who they are, they've reached their full potential, and they're the source of comfort for both the hero and the viewer/reader, who has to put up with the hero's wailings and sniffles and righteousness. To put it in "Twilight" terms, why in blue bloody hell would you ever want to be Bella when you could be Alice?
Of course, another way of looking at the high school anecdote entirely is the notion that my first audition was laden with my thoughts of "Okay, time to ACT. What do actors do? I guess in order to act I have to be all actory and actor...ish" whereas the second audition was more of "Well, okay, I'll read this thing on my way out and WTHACHIEVEMENTBBQ?!". Essentially, when I just chill the hell out and do something I actually do quite well. The best laid plans of mice. This would be supported by my pathological nebbishness in the face of that most artistic of banes, the Blank Paper Sheet of Doom. So overtaken am I with the pressure to make something great that I nitpick it into mediocrity or, more likely, nonexistence entirely.
So, while I am an inherently goofy person, my inclination is also to be very wound up, and a lot of the world awaits me if I just. chill. out.
Seriously.
Or rather, not seriously at all. Dammit. It's the one endeavor in my life that cannot be achieved by attacking it vehemently head on. It's improvement dictated by total inaction, or at least the lack of negative action that is usually postive in other circumstances.
Has it been covered that I think too much about things? That's another habit I want to get rid of.
BRB, off to go be the best goddamn backup dancer I can be.
Thank you Donny Osmond. | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
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It's nice to actually, y'know, see progress once in awhile.
If not progress, then at least some great tits. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Found this in the trash of an alley one day.
Well then. Tell us how you really feel. | | comments: Leave a comment |
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Lady Æmmeline, who showed up right when I needed her so I could join in on fun submissions to things. She was one of those characters who went down quickly, and I knew exactly who she was.
She was bossy, too. I tried drawing her twice in Painter, but she seemed to insist I whip out paper and marker for her. Just because. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Queen. Live Aid. Wembley
Of course, the whole thing's worth watching.
Freddie Mercury Tribute concert: Elton John and Axl Rose. Together.
Okay, does anyone ELSE think performing "Too Much Love Will Kill You" at an Aids Awareness concert is kind of twisted? Unfortunately coincidental?
...Funny?
No? Just me?
Goddammit. | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
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Señora's dance has no title...
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![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/roshi/palefaces/thoughtful.gif){kind=small}
Meh
