flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
(Click to embiggen.)
I went to a concert at a comic book store Friday night, because sometimes my life is awesome, and naturally I took my drawing stuff with me, because god forbid I sit still for five minutes. In my defense, I put my drawings away as soon as the concert started, because that seemed rude. Then I pulled a pencil and some cardstock back out, because Eliza Rickman is picturesque as fuck, and I couldn’t resist.
This is the second, less good drawing — I didn’t get to the head before she was up off the floor, so I added that from a photo later. The first one, which was reasonably complete, my friends lovingly bullied me into asking her to sign, and then there was a confusing kerfuffle where she wanted to keep it, which is amazing and awesome and also hilarious because she ended up with her own signature. So I finished this one up, even though I had plenty of other things I should have been doing, because I’m a completist, not a creepy stalker. No, really. I’m a little worried I’m starting to seem stalker-y. I just like to draw, Eliza Rickman! I’m not crazy in any threatening or creepy way!
Also, I drew a baby Saturday. Don’t leave your baby unattended with me while you go get noodles if you don’t want me to draw them.
Also don’t leave your baby unattended with me if you don’t want me to eat their chubby little toes while you’re not looking. I resisted. This time.
There I go being creepy again.
See you tomorrow with your regularly scheduled Tarot cards.