September 5th, 2008


Slave To The Dragon No More!

It's done.

Dragonbreath is DONE.

I mean, I still have to do the cover, but that's in their court for another day or two. Until then...DONE. Even those last two spot illos they sprung on me after I had finished all the pages...DONE.

Yes, they want the sequel around the end of the year, but...well, I'll deal with that later. DONE. DONE. DONE.

Now I can move. And do those paintings buzzing in my brain, and those commissions that need to get done, and that one carousel thing and the thing for Sofawolf, and...write the sequel, I guess...and all the other stuff. Like move. Yes. Move. That.

Did I mention the moving?

I smelled the moving smell today. I cannot even begin to tell you what it smells like, and it may only be a product of my fevered imagination, but it smelled like moving. This should probably smell like cardboard or bubble wrap or dust or musty plaster or hastily ordered pizza eaten with a box as a table or SOMETHING, but I don't know if it did. I don't know what it was at all. It was just...I was in the car and there was a smell and I'm moving hit with that kind of hammering memory of all the other moves I've done in recent memory (which is a lot. I worked it out once that this is something like the sixteenth time I've moved in my life that I can remember.)

I never even knew there was a moving smell, but as soon as I smelled it, I knew what it was.

So I came home and dragged a bookcase into the car and took some art down, and now my apartment looks like moving. And that's okay. I have most of a month to get everything switched over, and since I won't be doing Dragonbreath every bloody day, it sounds practically like a vacation.

Dream Theatre

Had a weird nightmare last night that my buddy Brooke and I were being chased through these strange quasi-industrial, quasi-Victorian halls by these freaky mutant dogs with spider mandibles instead of teeth. They were trying to get to a little girl who we were attempting to escort to the top of the building, where she would get to ask a question of some kind of fascist oracle.

We delayed the dog-spiders by throwing pastries and holy water at them (there were a whole bunch of tables of donuts and muffins for some reason...) and finally reached the top of the building, where we got the little girl into this strange ceremony, taking place in a huge formal ballroom, just in time. I was on the edge of a set of bleachers, decorated with velvet barding, with three dog-spiders jumping at me and barking.

Rather than ask a question, however, the little girl--much to her own horror--turned into a freakishly growing monster--somewhere between Humpty-Dumpty* and Cthulhu--and attacked the oracle and assembled guests, while screaming that it was her father who had done something to her and turned her into a monster.

Brooke and I surveyed the growing carnage. "Right," she said, "I'm outta here." I agreed that this was a good idea and we broke out a window. Fortunately, the top floor seemed to be at ground level (most of the building must have been underground, ala Lovecraft's "Outsider") so we wandered out into the parking lot, hot-wired a pick-up truck while Armageddon erupted behind us, and then the cats woke me up just as I was trying to explain about the difficulty of getting art shows these days.

There were other dreams last night, but all I really remember is a single, rather interesting line--"There's a fox spirit who lives in my nostril. But I don't think he knows how long humans live."

And also I was Batman for awhile, but I spent most of my time on a message board dedicated to modding My Little Ponies with female Batman character themes. (I recall that I was very impressed with the Huntress mod, and less so with the Batgirl one.) Which is neither here nor there, except I kinda wanna do Superhero ponies now...

*I have always found Humpty-Dumpty creepy. Possibly it's because he's a little like a clown or something...