Image is doing a variant cover event in March, in support of Planned Parenthood – so this is my contribution: the variant cover for She Wolf #7.
If you’re reading this, then you’re almost certainly a more competent cook than I am and you don’t need to see what I’m eating for dinner. On the other hand, 25 year old Marian, who lived off of pastries and buttered bread and occasional take-out, could have honestly used a few basic, non-threatening ideas, so I’m going to go ahead and post this for her sake.
This company, Hagensborg, has some kind of dark product marketing magic going on, because I would buy their chocolate just for the pig mascot. I didn’t draw the pig nearly well enough, here. It’s the most amazing creature, and I’m totally in its thrall, and I just want to watch it do stuff. Even though it can’t. It can’t do stuff, Marian, because it’s an inanimate illustration.
The chocolate is also excellent, just incidentally, and I recommend the single origin bars and the PB&J truffle.
Initially I was going to make a post about my uniform, but then it immediately became a rant about how I can never find the correct elements, at least not to my fussy standards. So here, instead, is a miniature “Hchom line” with just the basics.
Now I need to post a shiny that was actually brought back from the field. My friend Sachi found this in Iceland, and as far as I understand it she took herself right to a glacier bed and systematically cracked open every rock until one of them yielded treasure. The most amazing thing, though, is that she gave it to me! Because (unlike some of us, I’m not naming names) she’s a superior human being, capable of parting with her finest shiny for the sake of friendship.
When we were really young, my sister invented a snack which we called the “toaster sandwich”. It was pretty much what you’d expect a kid to come up with: toasted bread sandwiching a messy combination of peanut butter and jam and honey.
Now listen, I was total balls as older siblings go. I don’t expect to surprise a single human being when I tell you that I was a weird broody child, and I wanted everyone to leave me alone so I could draw animals and read about Narnia. Spending time with my bouncy, affectionate sister was not on the itinerary. This toaster sandwich thing, however, was an exception. It was our bonding ritual. I would play videogames – Secret of Mana or Zelda or whatever – and my sister would watch, and sometimes she’d make us a snack, and even in my infant broodiness, I had to admit, those toaster sandwiches were mighty fine indeed.
A few people have suggested that I do recipe posts, and I’m still not sure if that would be wise, but you can count this as a beginning if you like. It might not appeal to anybody over the age of eleven, but it’s tried and true.
I meant to write a longer post today, but the week has been busy, so have this Vancouver page update for now. I’m adding Sweet Obsession. It’s been around since I was in high school (near my parents’ neighbourhood), and the big packs of assorted biscotti have seen me through a lot of shit.
I’ve had a lot of requests, over the years, to list all my shinies. The only problem is, I’m a monster, and my shiny collection has spread so far beyond my control that I’m not even sure where it ends and I begin. So to save us from these grave existential questions, I’m going to try something more modest, and regularly highlight some of the best ones, starting with this giant wodge of smoky quartz.
I have a story that I like to tell myself, about how I’m going to be this woodsy, butch old hermit living with a vast hoard of treasure. And a sub section of that hoard (I think I mentioned it back in another post) will include spangled gowns, and elaborate, largely unwearable jewellery, and all the shiny lady things that you (by which I mean I) would never expect me to care about.
It feels like the right time to dredge up some more art from the old tumblr account, which, as you might recall, mainly functioned as my Dragon Age fanart gallery.
So this one is just ridiculous. Why do I want a tea tray? My apartment is small, and it takes me all of three seconds to carry any article of food from one side of it to the other. But look, as soon as you put something on a tray – especially any sort of tea or breakfast or, let’s say, biscuit snack – its appeal suddenly doubles. Am I wrong? I don’t think I’m wrong. I just want to take advantage of the math, you know; I can’t be blamed for that.