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breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

I plug my own work all the time--I'm an artist, what else can I do? Paint, plug, sleep occasionally.

However, since the veils of secrecy have finally been lifted, I can finally plug James, or more accurately, what James has been working on.

Admittedly, it's not my sort of game, but I'm damn proud of him, and I anticipate squealing with glee whenever the commercials come on.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

I plug my own work all the time–I’m an artist, what else can I do? Paint, plug, sleep occasionally.

However, since the veils of secrecy have finally been lifted, I can finally plug James, or more accurately, what James has been working on.

Admittedly, it’s not my sort of game, but I’m damn proud of him, and I anticipate squealing with glee whenever the commercials come on.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

Happy Little Capybara Visits The Mayan Underworld (1)

http://yerf.com/vernursu/bloodgatherer.jpg

"Excuse me," said the happy little capybara, "but did an owl carrying a sloth come by here?"

"Go away," said Blood Gatherer grumpily.

The capybara was screwing up his courage to ask again, because Stanley the sloth was his best friend in the whole world and had to be found, when Blood Gatherer suddenly began thrashing and lashing and glomphing about like a tube sock stuffed full of cats.

"Are you okay?" asked the happy little capybara, when Blood Gatherer had finally stopped thrashing about, and was panting on the floor of the cave.

"I have an itch between my shoulderblades," said Blood Gatherer even more grumpily, "and my arms are too short to reach it."


I need another project like I need a compound fracture of my drawing hand, but what can you do? I'm still not sure if this the style I want--Blood Gatherer takes up most of the page and he's a fairly simple design, and ideally I'd like a style capable of elaborate detail, what with all the lovely Mayan architecture. So it's really more of a work in progress at the moment. But I kinda like the way the HLC came out in this scene.

breeden
ursulav

Happy Little Capybara Visits The Mayan Underworld (1)

http://yerf.com/vernursu/bloodgatherer.jpg

“Excuse me,” said the happy little capybara, “but did an owl carrying a sloth come by here?”

“Go away,” said Blood Gatherer grumpily.

The capybara was screwing up his courage to ask again, because Stanley the sloth was his best friend in the whole world and had to be found, when Blood Gatherer suddenly began thrashing and lashing and glomphing about like a tube sock stuffed full of cats.

“Are you okay?” asked the happy little capybara, when Blood Gatherer had finally stopped thrashing about, and was panting on the floor of the cave.

“I have an itch between my shoulderblades,” said Blood Gatherer even more grumpily, “and my arms are too short to reach it.”

I need another project like I need a compound fracture of my drawing hand, but what can you do? I’m still not sure if this the style I want–Blood Gatherer takes up most of the page and he’s a fairly simple design, and ideally I’d like a style capable of elaborate detail, what with all the lovely Mayan architecture. So it’s really more of a work in progress at the moment. But I kinda like the way the HLC came out in this scene.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Finally got around to watching the third Matrix movie.

Hmm. What it reminded me of more than anything was a comic-book movie--lots of source material skimmed over rapidly, characters not fleshed out as well as they could be because the people who've read the comic know all this stuff and so tend to assume will too. Characters that appear, mention something, and vanish again, and neither they nor whatever they mention, are ever pursued, and you get the feeling they were thrown in just because that's what happened in the comic and it'd make sense if you had the trade paperback in front of you. And stilted dialogue without pauses that would flow much more naturally in panel format. Some great, wonderfully coreographed scenes. It was like a comic book, and one with a really good art team with vision and a writer who had some great ideas and a tin ear for dialogue. And no editor. But since I'm already months late, I'll leave the review at that.

More excitingly, I caught a mouse.

My father suggested gluetraps, but James vetoed the suggestion, having used them before and not being able to bear stepping on little mousy heads. I confess, I'm a softy myself--I could feed a mouse to a snake, no problem, I feel no remorse when the cat deposits a mouse butt on my foot--I feel a lot of OTHER things, mind you, but not remorse--but actually having to execute the mouse would depress me. (Presumably I'd be okay if I ate the mouse afterwards, but that's one adventure in dining I'm not ready for.) So today, having actually found a turd in the silverware drawer, we got a pair of livetraps, baited them with colby-jack cheese, (peanut butter is better, but we don't have any) and stuck the traps in the cupboards.

'Long about four hours later, there was a clatter and the awkward thunking unbalanced sound of a live body thumping around on a surface that isn't quite stable. I pulled open the silverware drawer, and lo and behold, the trap had sprung. I took it out, put it on the counter, and considered my options, while the trap shook and rattled and boogied down, and Athena stood on her hind legs and danced like a furious Siamese marionette. Couldn't let it go in the backyard or it'd be back in the house before I was. So I waited until James got back from the store, we hopped in the car and drove down the block to an abandoned field, I opened the door, flipped the lid on the trap, and shook it out. It clung to the ground in evident horror--possibly the bluegrass that NPR plays at night here had unsettled it. It had a sharp muzzle and seed-shaped black eyes so enormous in proportion to its head that if I tried to draw them, it'd feel like parody.

Having rebaited the traps, I'm keeping an ear cocked, waiting for the thunk! If we were victim to one lone mouse, I'd be pretty astonished. I don't expect to reduce the mouse population with livetraps, just try and teach 'em some manners. I can't hope to keep them out of the house, and god, I'd much rather have mice than roaches!--but turds in my silverware have stepped over the line.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Finally got around to watching the third Matrix movie.

Hmm. What it reminded me of more than anything was a comic-book movie–lots of source material skimmed over rapidly, characters not fleshed out as well as they could be because the people who’ve read the comic know all this stuff and so tend to assume will too. Characters that appear, mention something, and vanish again, and neither they nor whatever they mention, are ever pursued, and you get the feeling they were thrown in just because that’s what happened in the comic and it’d make sense if you had the trade paperback in front of you. And stilted dialogue without pauses that would flow much more naturally in panel format. Some great, wonderfully coreographed scenes. It was like a comic book, and one with a really good art team with vision and a writer who had some great ideas and a tin ear for dialogue. And no editor. But since I’m already months late, I’ll leave the review at that.

More excitingly, I caught a mouse.

My father suggested gluetraps, but James vetoed the suggestion, having used them before and not being able to bear stepping on little mousy heads. I confess, I’m a softy myself–I could feed a mouse to a snake, no problem, I feel no remorse when the cat deposits a mouse butt on my foot–I feel a lot of OTHER things, mind you, but not remorse–but actually having to execute the mouse would depress me. (Presumably I’d be okay if I ate the mouse afterwards, but that’s one adventure in dining I’m not ready for.) So today, having actually found a turd in the silverware drawer, we got a pair of livetraps, baited them with colby-jack cheese, (peanut butter is better, but we don’t have any) and stuck the traps in the cupboards.

‘Long about four hours later, there was a clatter and the awkward thunking unbalanced sound of a live body thumping around on a surface that isn’t quite stable. I pulled open the silverware drawer, and lo and behold, the trap had sprung. I took it out, put it on the counter, and considered my options, while the trap shook and rattled and boogied down, and Athena stood on her hind legs and danced like a furious Siamese marionette. Couldn’t let it go in the backyard or it’d be back in the house before I was. So I waited until James got back from the store, we hopped in the car and drove down the block to an abandoned field, I opened the door, flipped the lid on the trap, and shook it out. It clung to the ground in evident horror–possibly the bluegrass that NPR plays at night here had unsettled it. It had a sharp muzzle and seed-shaped black eyes so enormous in proportion to its head that if I tried to draw them, it’d feel like parody.

Having rebaited the traps, I’m keeping an ear cocked, waiting for the thunk! If we were victim to one lone mouse, I’d be pretty astonished. I don’t expect to reduce the mouse population with livetraps, just try and teach ‘em some manners. I can’t hope to keep them out of the house, and god, I’d much rather have mice than roaches!–but turds in my silverware have stepped over the line.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.