chantico: (Weak)
My back is *so* fucked up. On Sunday night I had to sleep upright in our armchair, because the muscles were spasming so hard I was vomiting in my sleep, and I'd wake up choking on stomach acid. It gets a little better with massage and an adjustment (and Flexeril/a massive dose of Ibuprofen)but that doesn't seem to last. And of course, this is the week I have to get the apartment sparkling clean before our move-out inspection, which *should* involve all the nasty, hard work chores like scrubbing the floors. I don't know what to do because it ain't happening. Though the pain and stiffness is markedly better today, for stupid reasons: laying in bed last night, I had the misfortune to sneeze. Under the high tenor of my screech, I heard (and felt) a pop in my lower vertebrae. Immediately felt like a pressure valve had been opened. Go figure.


Been listening to audiobooks as a way to keep myself moving throughout the day-- Cat Valente's Habitation of the Blessed and Les Mis are the two on my iPod right now, both of which work better for me as a recitation than as text. Habitation is not Valente's best book. It starts off very slow, and the language, while pretty, has a lot of "this thing is like this thing" repetition. The poetry of it works better when read aloud. I don't know if it's eminently rude to muse on how I'd "fix" the narrative to make it work better for me, so I'll refrain, but I'm thinking about it. Les Mis is good background noise. Dumas is so frickin' wordy (talk about a long set up!) that I can tune in and out and not feel like I've missed overly much as far as plot goes. I'm enjoying it, mind you, just not hanging on every word.


Projects at work are mind numbing. Lots of specific layouts (that don't work in the format and style requested), lots of nitpicky authors changing their minds about what details should or should not be included, lots of instructions that are nigh unreadable due to bad spelling, bad handwriting, and bad faxing. Also, lots of flat out crazy. And requesting impossible scenarios/styles. And asking for too much to be packed into one page. I have had a personal breakthrough about my cotton-stuffed head at the end of the day: that is not a failure on my part, either mental or physical. It is an expected result of doing some serious creative heavy lifting. It's okay to be tired after translating semi-literate babble into english, and then into a cohesive visual language, and to do not one, not two, but around 10 illustrations like this every day.

I need a vacation.


Money sucks. Send winning lottery ticket.

A Plea

Mar. 27th, 2012 11:07 am
chantico: (Default)
Hi folks. I need your help.

Some backstory, if you want. )

The short of it? I have a proposal.

I want to get healthier in mind and body. I want to get back in shape. But I'm already fighting a battle with that out-of-control weed that is my ED, so it's a little harder to get the gumption required to move my ass out the door. And gym memberships, which keep my motivated, are hella expensive. So are fitness classes, or yoga, or even eating healthier.

What if I was accountable not just to myself, but to you? What if y'all could help a lady out with some of those financial hurdles? And what if you got something awesome out of the deal?

Seeking: Healthy Living Patrons.

For 5 dollars a week, any week you feel like donating, I'll make you an original piece of art. Something beautiful, just for you, from the happiest place I can find in myself. You get art, I get help. You get to be a Big Time Philanthropist for very little moolah, and I get a big juicy to carrot to chase. (healthy, see?)

Here's the details, specifically: )

Art for cheap, help a person out. A pretty good deal, right?

I have one last favor to ask: I am not a well-known figure, and my audience is small. If y'all could pass this plea about, if you're comfortable? That would be AMAZING. Who knows-- maybe I'll be able to afford a nutritionist, or martial arts classes, or to fix up my bike.

Thanks, everyone. Now back to your regular blogging.
chantico: (Wonky)
Feeling pretty physically crappy today. For the not-in-the-know, I've been having my first major Health Problem, which is relatively mild as far as such things go, but required medical bills and doctors and getting tubes stuck through my digestive tract. The general consensus is a resounding 'Well, we don't know, but it's probably dietary" and then a medical hairy eye at the worst offender in my foodstuffs. Ladies and gents, it has happened: the sugar has caught up to me. We think. Enough so that I am officially not allowed to eat my favorite things most days of the week. No cookies, cake, frosting, candy, soda, etc, etc. This has been the case for, oh, a month, but I've been so bad about sticking to it I haven't noticed that much of a change. I *think* my stomach calms down, but I'm bad a paying attention to its signals, so, meh, dunno. But after pigging out this weekend, I am definitely feeling the gurgling effects.


Career stuff goes swimmmingly; I have people contacting *me* for freelance contracts, I'm collecting on old debts, I was invited to participate in a show. I have a ton of art I haven't posted here or anywhere, which needs t be rectified at some point. I'm pretty continually pressing myself to learn and the latest lesson is in edges, and how to trick my brain into seeing what is *really* there instead of filling in places where an object bleeds into the background. Once I have a better handle on seeing it, I can start playing with it in composition, figuring out how to make a character mesh with the background by sublimating some of the edges or pick out my focus by keeping it clear.


Spring needs to be here soon. Hate the winter this time around. Hate it.


chantico: (Default)

May 2014

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