VENTING.

There’s a lot to be said about creating something from your emotions. I’m not one for obscure surrealism and abstract art, but when I’m really frustrated about something and too upset to make functioning words or complete sentences…it helps to be able to vent out on a piece of paper or canvas when you’ve got no secluded place to scream bloody murder without attracting any unwanted attention. Yes. For me, screaming and crying it all out for an extended period of time usually helps calm me down, but considering I live in an apartment complex with thin walls, in the middle of a city with no vehicle of my own to go and find a secluded area to get myself lost in…screaming the way I’d like to is simply not an option. It’s a driving force behind wanting to move. I just want to find a place where I can scream in peace.




Which would lead you to wonder what it is that I’m trying to scream about? I don’t want to go into the specific details, as it’s simply an accumulation of months worth of money related stress amongst a small group of people that are trying to see through hard times…yet again. It’s why I hate money. Quite literally. I know I wouldn’t be able to survive well if we were back in a system that didn’t require currency, as I’ve learned from my own experiences that my art isn’t worth much to anyone outside of family and friends, but at least I believe that I would have picked up a different set of skills to better suit my needs. I have a feeling that as much as I love my art, that I’m glad I spent the time to learn and better my work, a part of me wishes that I had pursued something a bit more practical to pay the bills.

Ah well, here’s hoping that what mistakes I learned in this life will help me do better in the next. And I’m sure several people will tell me I can make the changes needed to find a better job, as I’ve seen not only my older sister but one of my best friends do it…I, myself, simply don’t have the motivation…aspiration…the gun-ho to go after the better life. I’m simply tired…lazy…and enjoy some of my own bad habits a bit more than anything else. I’m not living a financially good life, but I’m getting by, and am ok with it.

And no, I’m not asking for donations or hand outs. I get enough help as it were…you know who you are, and I will never be able to thank you enough. I’m just simply venting to help calm me down.


And for those who were wondering what happened to the kitten from my birthday? I’ve named her Kao K’o Kung…Koko for short; after the male Siamese cat from Lilian Jackson Braun’s ‘The Cat Who…’ murder mystery books. The character himself was named after a 13th century Chinese artist…and as my boss had already started calling her Koko when she found her, and I like reading the series as well, I figured…why not?




However, we’re always joking how we should have named her something else. My boss says Angel, because she believes it was divine providence that she saw her through her kitchen window at all. The ledge Koko was on was taller than my boss, as is the window, and she normally doesn’t look out of it. But in all honesty, she’s really a hell raiser. My boyfriend says Mazda, because she’s a little ‘Zoom Zoom’ kitty…running around the apartment at top speeds and always underfoot when you least expect it. My mother says Kismet, primarily in a non-religious sense of divine providence. But she’s annoyed now with the fact that I’ve three cats whose names start with the K sound…but aren’t all spelled with a K. It confuses her when she’s trying to sign birthday cards for them. “Is it Big C or Big K…wait…so it’s two K’s now? Or two C’s?” Eventually I’ll have them send her a card so she has a reference to check from.




Either way, we’re keeping her, because all in all…she’s just irresistible. My vet joked that our neighbors were going to start whispering about us…since she’s officially our fourth cat now. Then I told him about my brother-in-law that just got his third and fourth kittens recently, only to say that he’s got two more kittens on reserve from another co-worker’s cat that’s pregnant. I think my sister is intervening on this one, though. That, and I’ve got a couple of friends’ who recently bought a house, let a friend of theirs move in with her two or three cats. My friends already have four. Yeah…I hear they’re having a fun time with that.




All and all…I’m feeling better now. Thank you. Venting is such a wonderful thing.

Bike Fenders

Ok, so any shop that specializes in something as specific as train hobby supplies is going to have a steady flow of regulars, either from the city itself or from the neighboring counties…especially since train hobby shops are becoming harder to come by. Well, with painting my boss’ apron, I’ve had favorable reviews of my work from some of these guys and gals and managed to land myself a commission for a couple of bike fenders. Yes…bike fenders. Two of our customers occasionally come in on their motorcycles, one of which let me ride with him once…though he admitted that he was just trying to get a cute girl on the back of his bike. ~snickers~




I’ve created designs before, mostly for tattoos more than anything else, so making up a design for a bike fender wasn’t all that hard. Getting it on the bike fender…is another story. Thankfully, my boyfriend is similar to a handy man, and helped prepare the fender for me to paint on…and then finished it when I was done. This is a good thing for a girl that doesn’t have any shop skills. ^_^ The experience only made us realize that we need a bigger living space…or a garage to work on such projects in. This design belongs to ‘Grandpa’, as he likes the skulls and crossbones from the skullcap he wears whenever he’s out riding. He’d like me to paint it again on his helmet, while the other guy wants an eagle design from his skullcap on his fender.

My Last Year in My 20’s.

That’s right, it’s my birthday today, and next year I’ll be going into my third decade. I usually don’t pay much attention to the days of my birth; I’ve got some memories of a few, but not that many. My sweet sixteen was spent at the local pizza parlor playing video games with a bunch of friends, only one of whom I still actually talk to at least once a year.

But today seemed like such a hoot for me. It started out with a dream I had of a friend of mine from online. She actually made the trip down here last month to visit me, which only puts her high up on my respected friends list because of that reason alone. I promised I’d visit her next year, and am debating making it a birthday trip or a Halloween trip. I think I have to see first how my mom is planning the women’s get together first.

Anyways, so I dreamt that my friend was staying at a house that I used to babysit at, but from a time before the kitchen was redesigned. I kept on pulling fried chicken out of the freezer, to which it became the topic of discussion while I ate it. Sadly, the dream didn’t last long, as I was hungry and had to pee before the alarm clock went off…making me up earlier than usual.

The morning proceeded with some sleeping purrs from my little dumpling, to which later when she was up and about, she decided that she didn’t want to have anything to do with me, but instead attack her younger sister. And I say my cat is a mama’s girl…just not on my birthday.

I then got a call from my oldest sister and joked about whether or not my middle sister will remember to call me or blog about me today. I still love you even if you forget, Kermit! My oldest sister was surprised that I was up and about already, hoping to have woken my up. She then asked if Mom got to me already, but she didn’t. My bladder did.

Then when my boyfriend came down all dressed, sitting next to me while his daddy’s girl played his shadow, she immediately jumped on his lap. She loves his jeans and can’t get enough of his lap. The calico then proceeded to perk her rear up in my direction while he rubbed her back, and then released a rather stinky odor in my face. It’s her way of saying ‘Happy Birthday, Mommy!’ I’m sure.

But the fun doesn’t stop there! At work, and yes…I worked on my birthday…we get this phone call from some lady from one of our neighboring counties. I couldn’t tell where she got our number from, but she proceeded to give me her name, address, and told me how her landlord told her that she had an infestation of marijuana cockroaches in her apartment, and that she doesn’t smoke anything like that. I had to stop her right there and explain that she has the wrong number, since we are only a hobby and art supply store…and thus couldn’t help her. My boyfriend and I thus proceeded to look up to see exactly what a marijuana cockroach looks like to find that there was no such thing. This makes me think that maybe the landlord is doing the smoking…

After a call from my mom and changing out the display windows and putting up some sales signs for the shop, my boss drove me home. While I was pulling things out of the mail box, I found one card…from my favorite reference librarian! YAY! Probably the only card I’ll receive on the day of my birth, but I know I’ve got more coming, including a gift from my online friend mentioned above at a later date.

Ooo! And then I had a message from my dad from earlier this morning about my present. He had to call me back though, since he was on a conference call when I rang in. Whoops!

So, in keeping with the theme of fried chicken, my boyfriend went out and got us some KFC for dinner. While we were eating, our boss calls claiming she has a birthday present for me…and it’s one that my boyfriend isn’t going to like, and I’m doubtful that he’ll let me keep it.





Anyways, my boss happened to find a blue eyes, 7 (ish) week old Siamese kitten outside of her house when she got home from work! We want to think she’s a pure bread, which makes us wonder if she either snuck out and away from her owner or was abandoned. We’re not entirely sure, so we’re going to be contacting one of our local radio stations that announces missing and found pets, incase her owner is looking for her. And if not…?




We can’t really afford nor have enough room for a fourth cat, but deep down inside, I’m hoping we can either find her a good home, or my boyfriend will let us keep her. She’s just too precious to send to a shelter. Tomorrow I will be trying to get her to the vet for a check up and shots. Needless to say, our three girls…aren’t happy.

A Window into the Soul.

I like to draw eyes, especially when I’m bored and simply doodling. The shapes and lines in the eye fascinate me to no end. If you look back at my self portrait, I am admittedly drawn towards to the eyes and simply can’t stop looking at them. And so, in my creative slump…though I have a couple of projects I really want to work on but am not as ambitious to start as of yet…I decided to play with the chalk and oil pastel materials I have to draw a few eyes.



They’re primarily to play with the colors of the materials that I’m growing less fond of. Some time back, I went and bought some sets we had left over after ordering too much for teachers’ kits. Small sets ranging from 12-24 colors, and in playing with these sets, as well as the freebies I had gotten recently, I found that as much as I like having limitations…I don’t like having those limitations in colors. All the small colored pencil, chalks, and pastel sets that I have don’t satisfy me in range of colors. Yes, I know how to use two dark colors to make a darker tone of color, but sometimes there isn’t a second darker color to use…and thus I end up making the darker color lighter than I want. It’s rather frustrating.



I’ve already sent my niece some of the extra supplies that I’m not too fond of, but I believe it’s enough to satisfy her curiosity for the time being. I would love to send her more, but I want to know just how driven she is with the art bug before I throw more things her way to explore with. She is, after all, only 6 years old. It even takes me a while to get the most out of my supplies before I’m introduced to something new and want to explore it.



I am also finding, and this might be because of my training in the comic books art, that I actually like to heavily outline my subject matter. I’m filled with this need to make more outlines instead of putting in the effort to blend in the shades and highlights that would equally make the colored pieces pop out just as well. But I hesitate to use the color black, being drilled from my illustration classes that black is a major ‘no-no’ when it comes to color pieces. Even looking at past projects, I can see and understand why. It just looks horrible!

So…if these pieces were windows into my soul, I’d say they’d show the frustration I’m having with my materials. I don’t know if this means I need to find better quality materials, as we have a set of expensive chalk pastels left over from another kit, but I’m hesitant in buying them not for their price, but for the possibility that I won’t be too fond of the color selection they give me. The colors that are printed on the side aren’t much to go by, as a printed version of a color and how it actually turns out are two different things. That, and I have this nice…I think…100 piece set that I bought last year. I just haven’t wanted to unpack it from where I’m storing it yet. Not until I use up the stuff I’m not happy with first.

To My Lady in Red…

I dedicate and give this piece to you, the one of a few who I still hold dear in my heart from a life long past.



No friend can compare to this beautiful woman who opened up my spirit to a world filled with strong feminine heroines and dynamic duos. She was my opposite in personality and life style, but the one who encouraged me to explore my imagination and bring out the heroic character in me.

When I first heard of the Lady in Red, it was through a classmate I had known since Junior High. We were friends in a sense that I felt bad that everyone else made fun of her, and I wanted to be the good and compassionate person that could see past the imperfections and find the wonderful person within them. But even I get annoyed with people. So by the time High School came around, I was tolerating the classmate’s presence more than enjoying it. When she told me of how the Lady’s stepmother was co-workers with her own mother, that we would all surely be best friends, I put it in my mind that I needed to avoid the girl as much as humanly possible; put up my walls and not let her in. I won’t deny it; I am a horrible person.

We had home room together, and I too was the one that was made fun of because I didn’t fit myself into the time’s style/personality mold. I drew on my jeans, took all sorts of photos that I would look through by myself…and none of my friends were in the same homeroom as me. When the Lady in Red was seated next to me, saw how I never stood up for myself, but instead kept quiet despite everyone’s criticism and withdrew deeper into my shell…she reached out to touch me. She wanted to see the photos, see what I was drawing, pick my brain of the ideas I had. She wanted to get to know me…she wanted to stand up for me and tell the jerks off for making fun of me.

I can’t say we had a whole lot in common first, and I’m not entirely sure how it was we clicked so well. She was in love with driving, and raced microds. I hate driving. We both watched Xena: Warrior Princess, X-Files…and explored the growing anime interest by watching Sailor Moon, Devil Hunter Yohko, and Dirty Pair; all of which had strong, female heroines. We went to the Renaissance Fair the first summer we hung out and got matching black and red princess hats. The first time I spent the night at her house, I ended up staying for three days in a row! Her stepmother taught us a little bit of self-defense, training herself to teach a class. The Lady in Red was amazing, and inspired me to create the comic behind the images in the painting above.

But, we didn’t…and probably still don’t keep in touch all that well once we graduated from High School. When I moved in with my grandmother and the Lady was in town for the summer, she couldn’t believe how much I had changed. I had hair down past my hips when I graduated, and so when she saw me chasing her car down the street when she past the house for the third time, she thought I was a 12 year old boy. That’s how short I had chopped my hair off to. And then we both moved to separate states; she to the west coast, and I to the south. She was pursuing her career in communications while I was furthering my education in comic books. We talked less and less, but occasionally managed to call each other out of the blue to play catch up. We still do at least once a year.

She’s back in our home town now, and went to our 10 year reunion. Apparently most of the people we once knew managed to get out of town and didn’t come back to relive the memories. I don’t blame them, I didn’t either. The fact of the matter is that those memories are just that…memories; a part of my life that is over with. And most of those people I once knew I really have no desire reconnecting with. There are a few, very few that I still feel so fondly about, such as my Lady in Red, the Earth Warrior, my Twins, and Fabio…but I can honestly say that I’ve moved on from that life. I’m no longer the same person I once was, maybe an evolution of that person, but definitely not the same.

And so I painted this piece for my Lady in Red, in memory of the times we once shared. I’m sure time will reconnect us again on a more regular basis, as I am a firm believer that we were meant to be friends through the thick and thin. So I patiently wait for that time, and pray that the bonds of our friendship will forever remain as strong as they once were.