Stretching

I recently had the good fortune to reconnect with a friend I made around the time that I moved to the city, but with whom I had lost contact because of our drastically different work schedules. Our reunion has been a rewarding one, and we've been having infrequent loads of fun ever since.

Last night, she and another close friend of mine got together for a ladies' night out. Now, we're all rather introverted people, but also happily identify as nerds/geeks/weird ladies, so conversation was slightly halting but quite engaging. Until we got to the subject of the subconscious.

I can't remember if it started with talk about dreams or not (it could have been our attempts to figure out our personal D&D stats to find out what our classes in real life were; BIG fun), but we were discussing the various fascinations of the subconscious and how one might interpret such curious aspects of the mind when I began to recall a talent I had developed some years ago but hadn't used in some time. I used to be able to 'read' people. Now, like then, I am inclined to preface this by saying that this is not a hokey spiritual thing; I'm not psychic or reading your aura or magically gleaning anything from your person. I just look at a person, consider the impression that they make on me, and begin rattling off about aspects their personality reminds me of. Sometimes I get strong impressions. Sometimes I just get a few images in my mind. Last night, I was able to revisit this ability, and it was incredibly therapeutic. After sharing my impressions with my two friends, I felt released; like I'd been confined for too long and was finally able to stretch. I felt worn, like I'd just got done exercising some long-unused muscles. It was glorious, and I like to think my friends had a good time of it as well. From what I could tell, my perceptions rang fairly true. I even found that I could do it without the person needing to be present (I 'read' one of their spouses).

I don't suppose this much matters to anyone who is not me or who doesn't want one of my strange readings, but, like with my last post, I felt the need to share. To get it recorded and put up somewhere. I'm on this honesty kick, and putting out details of my life that speak to who I am and how desperately weird I happen to be is rather liberating. Thus the sharing.

Oh, and I did a sketch the other night. It was fun. First time I'd used my tablet in a while. I need to keep using that thing.

Dreaming Aloud

Though this blog has been utilized mostly for the posting of visual art since its conception, it may come as a surprise to my small collection of readers (those who do not know me personally) that I fancy myself a bit of a storyteller as well. I am by no means a great writer, nor am I terribly accomplished. But sometimes I jot down a few ideas with the whimsical notion of a distant future in which I might see them published on a page for all the world to see. Of course, this would require a great deal of time, effort, and not a little monetary support. As I am typically busy, quite skint, and uncommonly lazy, I tend to consider this dream of mine woefully out of reach. But sometimes I sit down at my computer, and I am overcome with a compulsion to create something. Often times, my inner critic will squash this idea immediately. I haven't planned or prepared enough; I'm not skilled enough to put together anything worth reading. And even if I did produce anything, what would I do with it? How could I ever be satisfied enough with it to share with anyone?

Tonight, I decided to ignore my inner critic. After a little musical inspiration, I came up with the briefest of scenes from a little fanfiction I've been conceptualizing over the past couple of months. I was so proud of the little slice of text that, even though it has been through no real thought or editing, I wished to share it with someone. Anyone. But not to draw too much attention to it. Just to put it out there in the world. Tack it up on a wall where anyone so inclined might give it a cursory glance or even a quick read. But where?

That was when I remembered that I had a blog. An art blog, no less. And though, as I've said, it has been devoted mostly to visual art since I created it, I thought to myself--why not add a new dimension to it? After all, I may love drawing, but it is not my true passion. It's just the easier of my artistic inclinations to share with others. A single blink and you've taken in the entire production. Reading takes a bit more effort. Writing, even more so. And editing, the true task of a writer, the most of all. I didn't really do any of that, though, so whatever.

My hope is basically that this will reach only very few eyes, and only those inclined towards kind if thorough critique, if at all. All I really wanted was to put this somewhere, and to proclaim that, 'I did this.' I have few enough accomplishments in writing, and I wish to celebrate those that I have. Perhaps it will encourage me to do more of it. And gods know, I need as much encouragement to take steps towards that impossible dream as I can get.

The music was soft and lilting, light and hopeful. It was as deep and delightful as a dappled wood, the staccato notes like the uncareful drip of rainfall on new leaves. It felt like hope. And for someone to whom hope had been a stranger for so long, the song was as bittersweet as it was touching. 

Muiri's vision blurred before she even felt the tears begin to well. She closed them, to hide her pain and to shut out everything that was not the music and the memories it envoked. Sitting with Friga on the steps of the old house, picking at mountain flowers and dreaming of the day when they were both happily married, doors just across from one another, sharing womanly secrets and laughing with joy as their children played together as they had when they were young. 

When the song was over, the memory and the dream faded with it, like a setting sun. The feeling of elation, so fleeting, fled her rapidly. All that was left was an aching emptiness; a deep regret from which she feared she might never recover. An endless twilight, in which she could only ever see just enough to know how badly surrounded she was by shadow, and how blind she was without the sun to guide her. 

There was a heavy warmth on her shoulder, and she looked up suddenly. The tears spilled down her cheeks. She had nearly forgot them. Rhuk was looking at her with something akin to concern in his eyes. They were deep, sunken in shadow, hidden from the light. But the firelight reflected there gave them a brief glint of brightness, winking like a pair of stars. 

Guiding stars in the night. Muiri had to smile. The sun was long gone, and darkness had fallen. But not all was lost. There were stars in the night to light her path. They could never be so bright or so warming as the sun, but she could rely on their cold light, and find her way through the darkness. 

Someday, the night would end.

Day... what was it again?

Okay, so I haven't been keeping up with the Monster Girls as I should. In truth, I drew a couple more before I pooped out completely. However, I've got a new life-driving goal this month, and that is, as some of you already know, my desire to complete a 50,000-word novel in a single month.

That's right, ladies and gents, I am participating in that world-renowned literary contest known as NaNoWriMo. Never heard of it, you say? A Google search should clear that right up.

It's awkward getting back into writing. I've been jotting down ideas and story summaries for years, but actual prose... I don't think I've attempted that for quite some time. It was hard getting used to writing dialogue and description again. I'm quite rusty. However, despite my failings (I am also currently under par for word count at the moment, but am slowly working to fix that), I am thrilled out of my socks.

The writing I have done so far may be fourteen pages of utter tripe, but it is tripe that will later be ground down into the foundation of a much tastier treat.

Okay, possibly not the best metaphor, but the truth is this--I'm having a blast. This stream-of-consciousness type writing has me working out creative muscles I forgot I had, and learning about more every step of the way. I've already had several epiphanies about the structure and flow of the story as it is going to exist once I begin the editing process in December. I also become more familiar with the setting, characters, tone, and general themes of my tale as I go, so that by the end of all of this, I'm sure I'll be much more confident with what I want to do with this creative explosion.

In the meantime, I probably won't have a lot of art to post here. But here are the two monster girls I came up with before throwing myself into the literary winds.

Day 9 - Demon

I'm not terribly happy with this one, as I began losing steam around the time I started drawing her, but I like the concept. The mental image often associated with 'demon' is full of red skin, horns, spaded tails, and fire. In my world, demons are often subtle creatures, taking advantage of whatever form will get them what they want with minimal effort. I chose a cheerleader for their obvious appeal. It doesn't take much to manipulate a horny teenage boy, but this girl has the skills to get what she wants already in place--leaving the demon with a job that requires minimal effort.

Day 10 - Succubus

As you can see, I put a bit more effort into this one. A good friend of mine had the brilliant idea of starting a bit of a drawing chat. It didn't work out quite as well as we would have liked, but it did mean that I had little to concentrate on other than this image as I worked. I think the result is pretty good--especially for one of my first attempts at color. 

The concept behind this was that the succubus was a living doll onto which she would paint whatever appealed most to the one she was seducing. I suppose it's difficult to tell (I'm still working on the color thing), but her aqua features are supposed to be ghost-like, the phantom portrayal of an ideal. Maybe I'll come back to this idea some other time, when my skills are more developed.

I'll undoubtedly come back and finish the Monster Girl Challenge, but probably not anytime before November's end. 

8k/50k and counting! Wish me luck!

Day 8 Octomaid

So, I've been told that my sketches look better than my lineart. Instead of deciding what I wanted to do with this information straight out, I wasted all my time on indecision and funny youtube videos. Here's an octomaid sketch.

I think I took the 'maid' part a little too seriously. Couldn't help it. 'Mermaid' is a normal use of that suffix. Octomaid? Just kinda stuck out. Hope ya dig.

Day 6/7: Spider Girl and Plant Girl

Alright, so there were a couple more days between these entries and the last ones. But I'm determined to finish these! Hope you like the latest.

Day 5: Mermaid

Didn't account for my Pathfinder game last night and missed the 5th Monster Girl. Completed her tonight, with two more to come tomorrow, on my day off.

Pfft, fish don't have boobs.

Day 4: Naga

More effort could have been put into this, but I started late. I think this goes on the list of ones I wanted to play with more. We'll see.

She's making friends.