Just Art

I wrote in another post about the need where I come from to define one's self through one's occupation or interests. I'm sure it's not unique to where I'm from, but whatever.

I was never an artsy girl. I was never a poet, either. So I'm always uneasy when doing both, as no doubt the more attentive reader has noticed on my attempted poems here.

Anyway, I've been doing art. Sort of. Why? I dunno. Someone allowed me into an art supplies store once too often, and I guess I got cocky.

I like when the world leaves me alone for a little bit, so I get to just doodle. Do you think if I ask nicely it'll leave me alone a little longer next time?

Nah, don't listen to her. She's all sick and doesn't know what she's talking about. This cold seems to be going in reverse. Don't say Covid. Or maybe it's just the drugs I'm not taking.

I actually touched my manuscript today, the first time in weeks. I think that's what's getting to my brain.

I talk an awful lot of smack when I'm feeling weird. Why do you read this garbage, anyway? I like doodling. It lets me think about a lot of things circling my brain space right now. And I thought I'd share it.

As you can tell, there's an ongoing theme of finding in this stuff. Self. Roots. Tribe. Always on the lookout for something. It's exhilarating, but also dauntingly broad. I never knew there was all this gunk inside us. Guess that's why we never look, huh?

This one I love. It's a bit older, this one. It's sort of character art for my fantasy series. She's Abiny.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐀𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞. 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐀𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐀𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Some stuff I wrote about her, when I posted this :) I'm sorry, I'm a little all over the place, but I'll gather myself. Eventually. Cya.