I realize I've been rather quiet, lately, on the blogging front. I'm sorry! It isn't intentional, really, more just neglect. Which is even less of an excuse, I know, but here is an entry so that the three people reading will forgive me.
I've been writing, sort of. I'm fixing up the terrible novel I wrote in a month and a half. We must wait, however, to see if it's completely horrific or not.
It hasn't helped that the girl I'm watching bought me colored pencils for my birthday. Nice ones, German ones. Germany's Schreibwaren (writing merchandise?) is awesome - all pens are efficient, successful, fluid, and all pencils are triangle-shaped, so as not to roll off your desk or coffee table or whatever. These pencils are no exception. They are awesome.
So I figured "What the hell", and bought myself a Moleskine. At the time of this writing, it is 1/4 full of failed drawings of tigers, 1/2 full of scrawled cursive writing, and 1/4 full of pencil art. A la Aaron King, I am now going to post said art on the Internet, just because I'm sad that there's nothing else in my blog recently.
Here's the first one. These are two girls I saw shopping together at H and M.
It seems strange to me that they were friends - strange and sort of beautiful. One of them was very Germanic, complete with short shorts, and the other, well...
Munich has a huge population of women in full-body black veils right now, because Saudi Arabia has come over to shop at Gucci with oil money and escape the heat. I don't like to admit it, but these women make me more uncomfortable than the whorehouses on Hansestrasse do. So it was nice to see one of them with a friend, instead of with a fashionably-dressed husband and a massive stroller...
Then here are some people I miss, drawn from memory.
It is Lisa's gift that she is really, really easy and fun to draw.
Meg is less so. I don't think this looks like her, but I do think it looks okay.
I keep trying to draw Nader, but it's hard because he moves a lot. And so I have to rely on memory, and because my memory is occasionally strange and addled by caffeine, they generally wind up not looking a lot like him. My self-portrait looks a bit like me, but only because I was not moving.
There are lots of other self-portraits in here. I am a willing subject, I guess.
This is me in the house where I nanny. It is much nicer than the drawing allows. Here is the garden, if you replaced the seaside behind it with a much more boring, much more hard-to-draw hedge:
And then there are my fictional character drawings. I don't know.
Jadis of Charn! The best witch ever! You know, the White Witch, but before she was White. But not before she was super-strong and could throw lamp-posts at people. I wrote a shitty sonnet about her on the page facing her.
And here's Coventry Patmore's The Angel in the House. I wrote all over the back of her, and didn't realize I'd kind of ruined her until it was too late.
There are more, but they're kind of weird, as are many things I do. So they're not going on the Internet. But here: a blog! Hooray...
