Growth

But not the tumor-y kind with hair and teeth. The branch-y kind with scales, feathers, and beaks!

Never doing what I'm supposed to be doing...

...whether it's updating this sketch blog on a (semi-)daily basis, or paying attention in Biochem recitations. An older sketch and, sigh, a symptom of the reason why I did not get an A in that class.

Umicorms!

Sort of like wolfareems, but with more of a penchant for the pure and virginal. Anyway... this is an inexcusably shitty webcam photo of a shirt that I'm in the middle of painting... with a UMICORM! Oh, joy and whatnot! (Cue puppies and rainbows and bunnies and glitter and stuff.)

Using Tulip "Slick" black fabric paint thinned with water; currently undecided if I'll use the paint as sort of a wash later, or if I should leave it as mostly a line drawing. We shall see. The back and bottom hem of the shirt have a bunch of cutouts, and the sleeves are sliced and may be beaded at a future date. It'll be epic. Seriously. Wait for it.

And it can be biffles with my unicorn shoes. Maybe I'll draw those bitches if they ever show up. Come onnnn, UPS man. I know that pure and virginal is a requirement for unicorn entrapment, but the delivery service doesn't have such standards... right??

Is that a pencil in your pocket, or... ugh, nevermind.

I think this is Trent Ford? I can't quite remember. What the hell ever happened to him anyway? I actually don't even find him all that attractive... which I suppose begs the question of why I would choose to draw him all "COME HITHA, BEBEH"-y, and the answer to that is that I have no fucking clue.

Oh well. Artists are strange people. I suppose you all will just have to get used to it.

Getting a Handle on Things

Sometimes the simple, functional details can be quite beautiful. And this is not a pity compliment I'm doling out just because I feel bad for under-appreciated furniture appendages. But seriously, have you thanked your dresser knobs today? It's a tough task they perform: they're groped and yanked daily by your clammy, greasy hands - yet they nary utter a complaint. And it is precisely because of this that I am able to get dressed each morning. How would I access my unjustifiably large collection of Threadless shirts if I had to listen to some glorified woodchip whine about it the whole time? I wouldn't, that's how. So I say this to you, dresser drawer knobs: Thank you. Thank you for being such doormats. (Not that I am trying to slight doormats in any way... I hold both parties in the highest regard. Really.)

In other blog related news: I've decided to keep an archive of older sketches to post up when I don't have the time to draw new ones... hopefully this will keep my posting more consistent!

Flop

A polar bear (?) plushie that's been laying on my couch for the past few days. I have no idea where he came from, or how long he plans on staying. Perhaps I shall ask him.

Yes, I am aware that this is supposed to be a daily sketch blog... why do you ask?

None

None today. Other obligations. Apologies.

Closet

Mine is currently the cleanest part of my disaster zone of a room. It is, in fact, such a huge difference between the two that I believe the room has begun to reject the closet, refusing to acknowledge it as part of itself. Fascinating.

Breach

When I think about toes, I think about that girl I know whose head is shaped like one of my friend's big toe. Or is my friend's big toe shaped like that girl's head? Hmm...

BrainMap

Self-propagating explosion of fine-tip felt pens on paper. My eyes nearly dropped of their sockets while I was drawing this at 4am, but I couldn't stop. Is this what my thoughts look like? I could it imagine it to be so. A writhing plague of color, boundlessly spreading. Pure aesthetic release. This thing is obviously out for evil - mind your children.