chantico

I woke up this morning in a cold sweat, having dreamed about being chased and hunted through an endless house by, in order: My sister, naked hobbits, a school of little ballerina girls, and John Malkovich channeling Kevin Spacey's Lex Luthor, or what I've seen of him from the previews. I woke up just as they caught me, and instead of eviserating me as was expected, they offered me a pina colada.

That is so life right now in a nutshell. A wacky nutshell. I'm having some pretty big financial problems, but I am so happy in general that they seem managable, and I recognize them as the important life lesson they are. I.E., manage your money, bitch. My place is clean, I've been doing chores, I've been cooking for myself most nights, I've been getting Important Work done, so not so important work done, and pretty much feeling responsible, cheery, and infused with magic.

I don't think my credit card company is going to offer me pina coladas, but at least I don't think I'm going to have my head chopped off by the end of the month.

After the dream, I was trying to fall back asleep when I heard an unfamiliar beeping, and then my head cleared as I remembered the cell phone I had in my laptop bag. I'd found it last night when I was hanging out in the Union at 2 Am, and since the front desk was closed I took it home with me fully intending to call and see if I can figure out whose phone it was and get it back to them. Good karma and all, especially since I loose stuff all the time.

I eventually get in touch with the owners, who were leaving town right after breakfast, and were v. v. grateful to have their phone back-- grateful enough to hand me arather large supply of Village Deli gift certificates when I dropped it off there to them. I proceeded to use some of these when I serendipitously ran into kitsune_den, ancientwisdom, squishymeister and her S.O. coming in for brunch.

A good start to the day.

I am now in the library, absorbing the friendly, people-filled atmosphere, having redone my LJ layout. I think I'm going to crash out here for a while and write/read, since I am now a few pages into China Mieville's Perdito Street Station and *I am in love*. His style is fairly similar to mine, or at least what I would like mine to develop into: lush, rich, sensual, and closer to stream of conciousness sometimes than constructed narrative.

Plus, you know, internet; in an effort to cut down on some of my expenses this month, I've turned off the cable and internet in my place, which has resulted in both boredom and creativity. I'm working on going through all of my old magazines and cutting them apart, making a folder full of pose/people/clothing/architecture/objects/animals/whatever resources.

Oh, yes, and lots of art. Most of it has been sketches, but I've been working diligently on commissions. I'll put some samples of some stuff under the cut at the bottom-- for those who missed it, Dino's picture; the workings of my second BEE pic; and an independent painting I'm doing because I wanted to work in the horror genre once again. Honestly, at this point I think I've given up on using lines in my digital work. It's my least favorite process of the whole damn thing, and I don't have the fine control with the Wacom I have to be able to make a line and stick with it; one simple inked line usually takes three or four tries. The paintings also just plain old look better, I think, and force me to think more about the peice as a whole than just as a series of independant colors and shapes.

Oh, and an update of sorts on the Faerie Oracle thing: My "official" crad of the sumemr is Sylvanius, which Ta'Om complimenting him at every turn, which makes for a rather fascinating approach to Truth. Contemplating their connection, I really, really feel like I need to get back into doing some writing, no matter how intimidated I feel about it, because damn I miss it.

Isn't it funny how some dreams get lost in the eddies of time, and you completely forget they ever existed until they come bobbing back up the surafce, flashing in the sun? For years, and I mean *years*, from 5th grade until 11th, I wanted nothing more than to be a writer, and up to, hell, a year and a half ago, I was certain I wanted to pursue both art and writing in equal measure. And then somehow that slipped away form me, and I forgot about it completely, convincing myself it was lost and impossible. Truth be told, it was the same thing as my academic strength and my ability to be articulate: with so many people around me who excelled in both things, I unconciously gave up on them.

Yes, I am in fact a very silly Avery sometimes.

In closing, Lord of the Rings is still the best movies ever, and one of the best soundtracks in human existance, and I still cry regularly when the chords hit me right. Like, um, now, in public.

I like the world.

( Artses Samples! )