Today is looking like more of the same--still running off more prints, on the off chance that someone at Anthrocon will need a print of the Crested Snogwoggler or the Nallwug, (I swear to god, my print books are gonna weigh fifty pounds...) and this evening I oughta mat the rest of my stuff, which will involve measuring and cutting and beating my head against the table wondering why I went into art when being a medical test subject pays so well. (I loathe matting. I may start doing all my originals in pre-cut mat sizes just so I Never Have To Mat Again.)
Did a quick Susan Seddon Boulet inspired doodle last night. It's shamefully Blatantly Spiritual. I feel more guilt for doing things that are meant to scream "Hi, I'm a Charismatic Mammal Totem!" than I do for erotica featuring gila monster women. This obviously says something about me. Of course, part of the guilt may be that these go really fast, and I suffer the guilt of "If it didn't take me three days and nights, it obviously Sucks Donkeys," often as I try to squelch it. I should probably do them more often just to work that out of my system or something.