Curdled.

I'm out of the office today and putting some realness into creative facilitator's braindumpings.

And the last of the milk was off.

Wook Shirt.

The Coat.

Because sometimes tyrannically ruling the known universe from your glacial palace in a chainmail bikini just isn't enough.

Dear Diary.

While there are many interesting shapes to observe at the beach, being precariously perched on an uncomfortable rock, covered in sunscreen and grit with perspiration running down the pencil doesn't work very well for on the spot sketching.



I also took a bazillion out of focus photos of my thumb, various fish and of the people happily splashing in the water.



And I finally swam with a stingray.

The Bad.

Designing a Big Bad.

Distracted between high calorie television and watermelon dessert, my few attempts at generating a menacing figure leads me to believe that I can't draw overtly "scary". I'm firmly ensconced in "cute", which trumps nasty every time, leaving me with a tendency to resort to staple evil trappings such as glowy eyes and tentacles and chitinous glints.

I have a fairly high squick factor when it comes to other people's open wounds and raw flesh, the sight of a nasty gravel rash will cause a sympathetic skin crawl and involuntary retraction of extremities.*
And I can't imagine that a monster singularly composed of light flesh wounds as being anything other than laughable.



I may have to rethink this approach. More insidious, less histrionics.

*Not to be confused with an inability to stomach movie gore. Zombies, the rotting, disintegrating and putrid undead deserve hugs too.

The Scribe.

We've been bopping along at the gym at a spritely rate recently, only to find out on Sunday that rival chains have forced its closure. That leaves us with Humourless Evangelical Sportbot Gym or Neckless Primping Mirrorhog Gym. I don't relish the thought of starting over and learning the machines in a new environment, but I'm willing to pretend that this change is for the better.

We've another fortnight at Bayswater before total closure and it's already like a ghost town there. Empty protein shakes, tumbleweeds and health bar wrappers all roll past in drifts, punctuating in no uncertain manner that everybody has departed.

I've only known about this for two days and I feel suspiciously like the old man in the shack on the exploding mountain who is last to hear word that there's an evacuation going on.




I've been sketching a lot lately. Lots. I've felt really out of touch with my inner analog illustrator, so I've endeavoured to put aside time each evening for doing some scribbles. The first few nights were disheartening as it felt like the pencil was maliciously working against me and making me draw the wrong thing. We wrestled with each other for sometime until the eraser would come in and break us up and mediate a solution.

I'm hitting a groove now and feel more confident this unfamiliar scribing tool.

We'll Be Right Back After This Commercial Break.

SELL! SELL! SELL!

SUFFERING FROM CREATURELESS DOLDRUMS??
DON'T KNOW A SILURIAN FROM A SAUCERMAN??

DRY YOUR EYES AND FRET NO MORE...

Yay! It made it in the mail today, the Ye Olde Compendium of monster scribbles!
The deluxe hand-crafted book made for you by you and a bit by me.
It even has a very special interactive last page and yet another of my hastily written and poorly thought out introduction paragraphs. Bonus!
It's even got a nice weighty heft, proof of all the care I lovingly poured into it.
Click the link to check it out!

The Morning.

The Egg.

I'd never met
a rotten egg
before today,
I hope from now
it stays that way.

*POP*

Break out the champagne, I've finally finished a five illustration advertising job for a glacially slow client that I started on the 29th of August last year!

I feel like I've just won a fucking beauty pageant and I want to sob while I breathlessly thank everyone everywhere for everything and world peace and, oh, the whales and the people who voted our despotic government out of office and for trees who give us paper and fuck you threadless and all the coffee I consumed just to get here today and OMG it's over and hooray!

Did I forget anyone?

\o/
|
/\

*Makes Like A Hummingbird*

Pretty though it is, this isn't the screen I expected to see when I switched on my phone. And why did porn turn up in my Google search for "piranha teeth"?
Where did the morning go?
I really want to post the syphilis illustrations. For effect.
I love mountain bread because I love mountain bakin'.

I've had too much coffee!

Wookiee.

Click image to buy t-shirt!

That gym thing again.

Scene ∞, Act ∞: Bedroom, pillows strewn across face.

6:50am
Waking up - "Mrmnf. What are you doing?"
"Going to the gym. Do you want to come along?"
Rubbing sleep from eyes - "Mrnemerm."
"Okay, hurry up and get ready then."
"Mnnm. And I thought the nightmare I just had about you was bad."

7:10am
I'm watching a Yu-Gi-Oh cartoon clone on someone else's exercycle screen, wondering where I am, who am I, what hellish layer of the abyss I'm currently on. I suspect it is the motivational one for unhappily sleepy sinners who haven't eaten breakfast.

7:40am
I escape to the disco filled arena of the weights room. Not very happy.
And I can prove it.



As you can see, I lift weights twelve times the size of my own head. Honestly, it's like I'm more ant than man.
I also smell like Richard Simmon's corpse or something equally fetid.

8:35am
Pumped and ripped I finally head back home for a day of sullen inactivity and drawing stuff.

The end

I'm a lousy blogger but will attempt to post all of my livejournal updates here from now on.