I know I am behind on everything, but if you saw my palms, you'd understand. I pulled a moist band-aid off earlier, to replace it, and a chunk of skin just went with it. I stared at it in disbelief while it began to color red, wondering maybe I should have listened to G next time and wear gloves.

Adductor inflamed, taking a day off from mulling. Tried drawing, but that falls under a similar category of using the hand and arm to strain towards a point on the desk surface, so... Am doing some menial labor a little bit, to stretch out, and the first hunt of the season was great - a really lovely forest, perfect weather, great assembly. Lots of dogs, lots of young ones, too, so poor Lyra needed to play a matron and by the end of the day, I kid you not, had to be carried up the stairs. Idiot dog. The weather is turning, slowly getting colder, rainy, windy. Moody. November-like. I oddly thrive in it. Perhaps I've missed a proper downer season. We'll see. I haven't written a poem in ages. Haven't even written poems about not writing poems.

Started the third batch. Can barely lift my arm, palms dried and cracked and a tendon between thumb and pointer got inflamed. And I am loving every moment of it. (Holding back with 'inventions' for now...)

Wanna make some of these a little better and more. One day. Soon.

Peterson's relationship with the human condition ought to be an angry fuck after a lover's quarrel and not a pathetic serenade to an indifferent snobbish bitch that it is.

:/

A little bit shocked and depressed over Tammy Peterson, I've been looking over the audiobooks in my native language, our native literature and holy fuck mother of God is all of that shit depressing. These authors really fucking hated people. Everyone dies in misery and hatred. I kid you not. I cannot find a single classic that would not be soul-wrenching. Men drinking themselves to death, people beating children, brother hating brother over money, religious shit, unfaithful women dying in poverty, scheming of the lowest kind, mean gossips, crappy luck. Fuck literature. 

Damn, I didn't know Tammy Peterson was sick :/ Now picking on that squeaky little wiseass is no longer open season.

How scary fate is. What good is world fame, a profitable book, millions of fans and a lot of hot enemies calling you our on your bullshit, expensive clothes and juicy public debates with folk a lot smarter than you (not to mention the memes), if the one person you are trying to impress the most and share it all with is slowly dying in your idle hands. This changes a lot. She seems like a cool person. Had she not been ill, picking on that pompous underfed little prick would have been an excellent intellectual pastime for years to come, but cancer is a trump card. Cancer changes everything. 

Pity. He was fun to call out on. He was fun to see cry like a little bitch until. I always liked him genuinely emotional rather than stoned to the point he seemed asleep during confrontations, and then people saying: he's so calm! You'd be calm, too, sister, if you had so much happy downers in your stream.

Rolling around on the forest floor ...

Uu, battle fatigue. I posted seven orders yesterday, I mean, wrapped them up and G posted them today. And today I can barely stand. I cannot start my brain, no freaking way could I start drawing something or start to write recipes. I feel almost deaf, inside and out. For this reason, I have not had coffee yet, and it's almost four. Let the brain and body rest.  I might have watched some shows or something before a three-hour nap, but I don't remember which now. I know I played some WoW, ending of the War 4.0 campaign. Everyone in the community is so psyched about 8.3, they are like puppies who don't know whether they want to drink or pee first: what with the recent 'our heads are so far up China's ass, fuck y'alls oppinions' boycott and closing down accounts, it's hard to know what to do. Do we love it and keep playing, do we hate it and close the game down? Difficult decision. Some said there are other games out there, but ... Sure, I play other. But everyone has this one that they deem a cut above the rest, that they love above all others.

The sale on Etsy has proven somewhat successful and I met with my target on the fifteenth, meaning I can now try to experiment a little. I will post another banner and really try to clean out all the listings, before starting a new batch. Then I will probably close the individual items and make them into sets, if there are any left.

I now have quite a few boxes of really various sizes, but the largest are inspiring me to create these shoutout gift packages... I mean, kind of silly, with all kinds of cute shit in them, not related to the original line. I finally, for the first time in my life, understand why people have sales. You really want to clean your shelves and start a whole new chapter. 

Some new stuff .. (all over the place, time-wise...)

Most of the stuff is properly published on Insta, as one does.

Pattern (also Pregnancy Loss Awareness month)

Cryptid (Kraken)

Yokai

Frail

Coven

Frankenstein('s monster)

Ash (also Hong Kong ban)

Will-o-the-wisp

Baby dragon

#magic #monster #ocean #folklore #folktale #freighter #enchanted #ship #sailboat #gloomy #tentacles #myth #inktober #inktober2019 #draw_everywhere #drawing #ink #illustration #cartoon #inkdrawing #drawingeveryday #drawingwithink #Slowreader11 #drawing