No see… this is not okay. I just got one little hankering of an idea and now I’ve done hours of research, am writing out a plot idea, and trying to decide full colour or greyscale.
I wasn’t suppose to give myself feels.
I wasn’t suppose to include the robots.
I INCLUDED THE ROBOTS. *Cries and pets all the beautiful robots*
I have no idea if I can draw the robots, guys. I just don’t know!
I’m trying to decide if I have an instant gratification problem or if I simply am incapable of appreciating what I have when I have it.
I constantly look at my art and think, “Hey, this is pretty good, why don’t more people like my stuff…” Then I look at all the artists I admire and remember, I’ve got a long way to go.
Can I just have some zen-like appreciation of my art where it is right now and stop worrying about what others think of it and how it stacks up? I thin that would be nice.
The stars must have come into alignment because I’m actually liking this self portrait I’m working on.
What madness is this?
My mother just looked at me and asked if I have had a reality check lately.
To which I replied, “Yeah, but it bounced.”
Headcanon on Dicks
I think as a woman I have a misconception of the penis. I always imagine it like some alien entity, renting space from a man, possibly through extortion. And it’s entire life purpose is to inconvenience and embarrass men, as if all it cares for is engorging itself at the most inopportune moments.
Sitting in an economics lecture, watching clothes in the dryer at the laundry mat, wrestling.
I also often imagine it has this salacious little voice that it can communicate telepathically with the man it holds hostage, crooning at him in the wee hours of the morning, whispering about the health benefits of morning wood and self gratification.
Imperically I KNOW it’s not like this, but this is the image of dicks that always subconsciously surfaces.