i’ve been writing bucket-loads of bad poetry instead of getting drawing done. whenever i open my journal, my tormented thoughts spill out in my juvenile voice. so i haven’t gotten much drawing done. i did try to fill up this page with some drawings. drawings of words. describing my rabid state.
but, in theory, moving my hand is moving my creativity…or something like that. there’s something there about how writing by hand…drawing…how it creates bridges….
okay, i’m just rationalizing now.
page 34 & 35 are in the works. i drew the panels.
i sometimes wonder if i should use less panels & open the page up more. but i kinda like panels. some order to the chaos.
i hope my life mellows out soon and stops taking me for this twisted, fucked-up, roller coaster of a ride i’m on right now. i could use some peace. my art could use some of the attention i’ve been giving a certain stupid situation i am in.
as much as i complain about my kids & my husband, their distractions are a part of my life and i love them for it. they keep my life interesting and give me inspiration. i do not need any psycho hello kitty drama clogging up my creative process…keep your eyes peeled for a hello kitty zombie for me to decapitate. it’s bound to happen.