?

Log in

No account? Create an account
breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

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

So the little capybara climbed up on Blood Gatherer’s broad and slimy back and found the itch, and scratched it with his webbed claws. Blood Gatherer glomphed and lashed and thrashed, but very carefully, so as not to shake the little capybara off.

When the itch was finally gone, Blood Gatherer said “Well, I’m a Lord of Xibalba, and I’m really not supposed to go around helping people, but since you helped me, I’ll tell you this—the owl carried your sloth friend right past here. But this tunnel goes into Xibalba, the underworld, where my eleven brothers live, and if I were you, little capybara, I’d turn around now and go home.”

“I can’t go home yet,” said the little capybara, “I have to find Stanley.”

“Fine,” said Blood Gatherer, with a great glomphing sigh, “then you’d better get going. But see if you can’t find the Mosquito, and maybe she can help you.”


I'm thinking that if I do follow this project any length of road, I'd want a combination of full splash pagers and little inset panels like this. And that's about as much planning as I intend to do, since I know enough about my creative process that in-depth planning is a much surer death than just doing a painting or two that ultimately doesn't get used.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

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

So the little capybara climbed up on Blood Gatherer’s broad and slimy back and found the itch, and scratched it with his webbed claws. Blood Gatherer glomphed and lashed and thrashed, but very carefully, so as not to shake the little capybara off.

When the itch was finally gone, Blood Gatherer said “Well, I’m a Lord of Xibalba, and I’m really not supposed to go around helping people, but since you helped me, I’ll tell you this—the owl carried your sloth friend right past here. But this tunnel goes into Xibalba, the underworld, where my eleven brothers live, and if I were you, little capybara, I’d turn around now and go home.”

“I can’t go home yet,” said the little capybara, “I have to find Stanley.”

“Fine,” said Blood Gatherer, with a great glomphing sigh, “then you’d better get going. But see if you can’t find the Mosquito, and maybe she can help you.”

I’m thinking that if I do follow this project any length of road, I’d want a combination of full splash pagers and little inset panels like this. And that’s about as much planning as I intend to do, since I know enough about my creative process that in-depth planning is a much surer death than just doing a painting or two that ultimately doesn’t get used.

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


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Today, I had allergies.

It was poetic justice, really. I admit this. Even as I frolicked carelessly 'midst the pollen dripping pine trees, revelling in my allergy-free state, nose dry as the Sahara, sinuses so clear that you could see forever (or at least the short distance to the inside of my skull) I knew that I was living on borrowed time. I knew that the allergies would eventually strike, and when they struck, it would be with the approximate force of a locomotive laden with overweight anvils.

And today, they struck. And I went down for the count.

I clawed my way to the store and got Claritin, but other than that, I accomplished virtually nothing today beyond mailing a bunch of stuff. I was flattened. Driving was an effort. My eyes are dry, my nose is stuffed, I have reduced many innocent lengths of toilet paper to wretched rags of their former selves. I would have forced myself to hammer out a Digger, but Photoshop was gagging, and it becomes difficult to work when the time between sneezes/nose-blottings is actually less than the time it takes to sneeze/blot nose. It was not a good day.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better, if I can Claritin before the histamine reaction kicks in. Otherwise I'll--ha! Health insurance! I sing thy praises!--call the doctor and see if I can't get real meds. I have no idea what that'd be like.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Today, I had allergies.

It was poetic justice, really. I admit this. Even as I frolicked carelessly ‘midst the pollen dripping pine trees, revelling in my allergy-free state, nose dry as the Sahara, sinuses so clear that you could see forever (or at least the short distance to the inside of my skull) I knew that I was living on borrowed time. I knew that the allergies would eventually strike, and when they struck, it would be with the approximate force of a locomotive laden with overweight anvils.

And today, they struck. And I went down for the count.

I clawed my way to the store and got Claritin, but other than that, I accomplished virtually nothing today beyond mailing a bunch of stuff. I was flattened. Driving was an effort. My eyes are dry, my nose is stuffed, I have reduced many innocent lengths of toilet paper to wretched rags of their former selves. I would have forced myself to hammer out a Digger, but Photoshop was gagging, and it becomes difficult to work when the time between sneezes/nose-blottings is actually less than the time it takes to sneeze/blot nose. It was not a good day.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better, if I can Claritin before the histamine reaction kicks in. Otherwise I’ll–ha! Health insurance! I sing thy praises!–call the doctor and see if I can’t get real meds. I have no idea what that’d be like.

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