angela_n_hunt: (Me 2014)
Crowned and Thorned

No, I don't know how she does it either. To be honest, I just point the camera at her and come along for the ride.

The Mad Model, everyone. Worship her.

* * *

I am having a gigantically good evening versus yesterday and this morning. Turns out that one of the meds that my neurologist gave me that we thought might help is doing a ton more than I thought. I was out since day before yesterday and while I never went into full on migraine, I've felt on the edge of one for over thirty-six hours. Until I picked up my meds at noon and took them.

Oh look. I feel like a new human.

Man, better living through chemistry.

So, instead of sending in an update next month, I'll need to go into the office to see him. This is what we call a significant data point.

On top of that, I have done a mighty thing today that I can only be vague about, which sucks, but trust me, it's fucking mighty and I am gleeful and happy that my skill set is being used for good. Though every once in a while I do think that certain fields lost out on me that I chose to follow the moderately good path, rather than go total dark side.

The truth is, I just lack the commitment to be a great super villain. S'truth.

And that's me.



angela_n_hunt: (Default)
Caveat first and foremost: I believe and love derivative works of art. I think fan fiction deserves a place in the Universe. I am full on board with Creative Commons and worship collaboration in the arts. I am after all, a filmmaker, and theatre alum. You can't make film or theatre without others. It doesn't exist in a vacuum.

My own work has been heavily influenced by Ridley Scott, Annie Liebowitz, Clive Barker and many, many others. You can see it. I don't hide it.

But when you directly copy my work or someone else's, put your name on it and then turn around say it's yours?

Dude, that's no different than if you walked in my house and robbed me.

John T. Unger makes art/fire bowls. He's environmentally aware and works with reclaimed materials to make work that I wish I had enough money to own and a place to put it. I want one so bad that it's stupid. But then those of you who know me, know how much I love fire. And he makes fire art! He's personally an inspiration to me because he has gone through adversity after tribulation after disaster and gotten up on his feet again and again. He has not given up the fight, not once. Even when he's wanted to. I respect that down to the ground.

He also personally helps other artists when and where he can and has demonstrated personal integrity over and over again. I don't know that I could be as strong as he's been in the face of all that he's gone through. I haven't had a roof collapse underneath me.

And an imitator is suing *him* to rob him of his copyrights. From John's blog:

I need your help. My original art has been copied by a manufacturer who is now suing me in federal court to overturn my existing copyrights and continue making knockoffs. I have a strong case, a great lawyer and believe that if I can continue to defend myself, the case will be resolved in my favor. If I run out of funds before we reach trial, a default judgment would be issued against me and could put me out of business. I don't believe my opponent can win this case in court and I don't believe he really intends to try. I believe his goal is to use strong-arm litigation tactics to force me to keep spending money or risk losing my copyrights — not by true adjudication, but by default if he is able to outspend me.

I can't adequately put into words how angry this makes me.

John needs help for legal defense. I am personally donating a pittance of money in conjunction with Hunt Press, but also art towards an auction and Hunt Press will be donating books towards the same auction, because if he loses this, *we all lose with him*.

Again, this isn't about derivative work. Or the equivalent of fan art versions of his work. This is the equivalent of someone taking your novel or story, erasing your name and putting theirs in its place.   Or your photograph.  Or your painting.

Please help, either by donating or by spreading the word.  Let it not be said that art no longer has defenders.   That no one cares to protect it, because it is easily copied and spread.

I care. 

Defend Art.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
Check it out!

[personal profile] argentla has joined me in the madness that is ImageKind, putting up some gorgeous images. If you have a thing for Ze Carz, you gotta check it out.

Ooo! Shiny! Fins!

Is very NOM.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
The final bills have arrived. We officially now only need to raise a little less than $1,000 to pay off everything and it's done, kaput, gone.

Flat out, you all are a miracle for getting us down to the last less than grand.

So, print sale and art show deals still continue in full force and effect. At this point, they will also stay so through the end of October, as the beginning of the meager thanks for everything.

All the details are here in the previous post:

So that's it.

And if there's anything I can ever do for you guys, let me know. This is one that I'll be paying back/forwards/sideways.

I wish I could really let you all know just how much this has meant to me, hell, to all of us. Ah well, I'll just have to try, won't I?

My heart is so full that it feels like it cannot be contained by my chest.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
Tonight's the night! First Fridays at Everyday Zen Relaxation Studio. Event starts at 5:30 PM and runs for some time. I'll be there as close to 5:30 pm as I can make, jetting from downtown. Pray that traffic doesn't try to eat me.

More details and directions can be found here:

I hope to see you there!

* * *

Ant Update will be probably tomorrow. Final bills arrived. OW. But we're very close to having this completely done and taken care of, which wouldn't have been possible without all of you.

I am eternally grateful. Adverb and all. You guys rock the Casbah.

* * *

Managed to work on taxes *and* Strange Weather last night. Didn't get any gallery subs done, but two out of three is total awesome and Win.

The Bean has decided that she is only happy if she can be in the Ergo and riding on my back while I cook dinner or there is much screaming and yelling. Luckily, this is no big and actually, kinda fun. She coos and plays with the straps as I cook and walk around, which makes me smile. Baby coos are instant endorphin creators. You have to be dead to not smile when you hear a happy baby.

The Mouse is getting better and better at her sote arabesques too. Come Saturday, I think Miss Laura will be pleased. I just love watching her jump around, pointing her toes.

Now, I just need to mainline a metric ton of caffeine so I can pretend to be smiling and charming tonight at the art walk.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)

*looks around blearily for coffee mug*


No picture today. Open house at school last night, followed by run to Aaron Bros. ate my evening. FYI, do not buy frames at Aaron Bros. anymore, unless they are for small photos. The large frames? Holy gods. Go to Dick Blick online. Aaron Bros. is just too expensive. I ended up only buying mattes, and only because they had some gorgeous ones that will fit the Between Heaven & Hell series, *perfectly*.

I do not cut my own mattes. I suck at it.



To both Denison and [profile] lunaticbubbles, you are both made of epic Win and I would not have survived last night without coming home to both of your smiling faces, a happy baby, and a dinner I didn't have to cook. Same to the husband who had the bottle of wine open and ready too.

* * *

Don't forget, First Fridays at Everyday Zen is this Friday evening. All sorts of lovely things going on and art on sale.

* * *

Update on the Ant later. Is good news from the orthopedist.

I'm going to go pour myself in to a vat of coffee now and try and wake up. Pray for me.
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THE FINAL EDIT: Shoot is this Saturday.   As of COB today, I am on vacation/parental leave, also known as, doing the work that matters to me.  Laying about is for sissies.


I've gotten every prop *but one*.  Which is just fine. 

To everyone who has been so awesome (<lj user = "stacymckenna">, I am especially looking at you), I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I hardly have words.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Watch this space for photos!

MAJOR EDIT: Studio acquired!!! WOOT!!! *does Stoked Photographer Dance of Ecstasy* And it is made of total Awesome! Where the Awesome is blinding and perfect! Insert Jack Black saying these words! Can you tell I am super super super excited?

So, I'm a month 27 26 24 21 18 16 14 10  1.5 days out from the next shoot with the Mad Model, M and A. EDIT: Boo. M&A are off to choir tour. Next time, my pretties! I'll get you and your little dog too! Oh wait. That probably just blew my cover, didn't it... EDIT the II: OMG, M&A may be available after all!!! WOOOT!!!  EDIT the III:  They're available!!!

I need and want the following items:

1 to 2 gallons of Krylon or Nye blood    EDIT:  DUDE.  *Amazon* sells Ben Nye stage blood.  For dirt cheap.  For 2 Gal.  HEE!  Acquired!
1 crappy thin white dress or negligee EDIT: I found a black one in the pile of things from Katharine. The Ant wants to kill me for wanting to destroy it. It's designer and I'm gonna take scissors to it. Dude. It was free and we're not likely to wear it any time soon.
1 large bag of wood fireplace ash
1 gothic candelabra, floor standing if possible EDIT: So, seriously, any chance of this? Anybody got any ideas at all? Or should I just eject this? It's not like I don't have a shot list as long as my arm...
1 set of black horns, rams if at all possible (if ram, they don't need to be black)

Several yards of white gauze or white sheer fabric, gauze being ideal
1 wooden tub EDIT: Ditto here. Any ideas? I think I'm cutting some stuff...
1 small fire pit or hibachi without the grill
1 large skein of black wool, partly spun (Christine, I'm looking at you, oh please,ohpleaseohpleaseohplease) EDIT: I have a line on white and some red Ritt dye... EDIT the II: Am going with what I found in the house. Will not be accurate for spinning, but should be visually interesting. So fuck accuracy!
1 spindle
1 pair of large wicked looking scissors

I think that's everything. I'll update and edit this post as I think of anything else.


Don't you just wish you knew what I was up to?


If you have them and can let me borrow them or know where I can get them at flea market/Goodwill prices, let me know. If rentals with low fees, I'd be interested to hear too, though my budget is the definition of shoestring.

I have ART to make, damn it! WOOHOO!

*does the Happy Art Photography Planning Dance*
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
*jumps on soap box*

Over at [profile] coppervale's blog, he posts a very important link and essay on the nature of Selling Out.

He's far more polite and measured than I am on the subject. I'm not lukewarm on the concept of receiving money for my art.

As I said in reply over there:

This made my blood boil.

Gods forbid we should feed our families with our art! Gods forbid we should actually be recompensed for our labor and our artistic intelligence! Gods forbid we should have the damned temerity or arrogance to believe that we deserve to be remunerated for our contributions!


Oh no. We should struggle and labor in obscurity because then our art is "pure!"

Bite me, you Bastard Art Elite Intelligentsia Jerkoffs.

I live and pray for the day that I can "sell out". So I can actually spend my days doing what actually matters to me, rather than pushing paper and answering phones. Having a dayjob doesn't make my damn Art pure or higher or anything. It just makes it art.



The Haters and Impatient Ones can go and soak their heads. You and I have more important things to do.

:end edit:

Those are the salient points I wanted to call out here.

I could rant for days, truth to tell. This is one of the things that pisses me off like the proverbial bull seeing the red cape. Very few things can provoke me to angry tears, faster. No one ever says an accountant should work for free. No one *ever* suggests that I should prepare their taxes for a thank you.

Yet, over and over again, people think it perfectly reasonable that I should shoot or write for nothing or for a pittance, even if the work is commissioned.

Guess what? Michaelangelo and DaVinci got *paid*. Shakespeare got *paid*. Mucha got *paid*. Charles Dickens got *paid*. Orson Wells got *paid*. Avedon got *paid*. Annie Liebowitz gets *paid*.

So here's my challenge to the World. If you see some art that you love or that moved you or made your day a better day? Pay for it, damn it. Even if it's a dollar. Without art, the World is a horrible, gray place. It doesn't sing, it doesn't dress itself in color, it doesn't mark itself down for the ages. We can't help but make it in the throes of love or the depths of despair. It is often our voice or vision of hope when we feel we have none or our record of the horrors that we have witnessed.

It has value.

Pay for it.

*jumps off soap box*
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
We have art that we do not die of the truth. -- Nietzsche
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
There's an article on ABC. I won't link to it. Not because the article is bad. It's not.

It's the comments.

It's an article on how many artists are basically becoming the cliche: starving. A reality that I'm facing and which makes me moderately glad for having a day job. I have too many friends who aren't working and have seen their income vanish. Working artists. I was glad to see that the news has noticed.

I wasn't glad to read the comments.

I'm usually smarter than that. I usually avoid reading comments, because there are too many trolls out there.

This was no difference.

Art is a luxury, dontcha know. Art is worthless. Artists are liberal, worthless fuckers who don't deserve to exist because they contribute nothing of value. Artists should get "real" jobs. Artists shouldn't have nice homes, because, y'know, when times are hard, they shoulda been more responsible and saved for a rainy day. Artists should live in hovels. Artists shouldn't whine that they can't find work. After all, their work isn't important to day to day living. Artists should shut the fuck up.

I am seriously overstating for the dramatic. But the subtext was there and in some cases, stated almost that bluntly. Especially the admonition to get a "real" job.

I am...incandescently angry and near tears reading this sort of shit. Hormones are shit in pregnancy. This sent me over the edge.

I didn't post a comment. I don't respond to trolls in forums like that. But there's a lot going on around right now about people feeling silenced and how they don't speak out to protect themselves, their lives, their careers.

I was told once that every time I've kept my silence, it was an affront to the Goddess. I hear Kevin, my friend the Bear Shaman, saying it to me again.

The irrational response to these people is, well, fuck you, assholes. Try living in a world without art some time. Give up your clothes. Your dishes. Pretty much anything. Give up good restaurants. Look around.

Someone, somewhere, had to dream it first. Someone, somewhere made it. A painter isn't the "only" artist out there. Artists are everything and everywhere. Art is what makes us different, along with culture, and language.

A world without art is a prison.

Go fucking live in your prison.

I choose to live in the world. A world where the driving force that made it come into existence didn't think it was too insane to make a bazillion different flowers. Didn't think that super-saturated colored birds were impractical. Didn't think that WE were impractical with our useless claws and our blunt teeth.

My Goddess is the Prime Artist, She With Her Hands Full of Stars.

Art? Artists? Worthless?

Try living without it and us, you bastards.

NB: This is not directed at anyone here. This is the product of too much exhaustion and too many hormones.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
I went home. I painted. I sewed.

The clouds need to go darker on the current painting, which means some rag treatment. There's a point where brushes do not do what you want them to. The rag trick is one I picked up from a fellow artist when I asked him how he got his work so damn beautiful and gothy. (stuff looked like a heavy shadowed room, beautiful)

Cotton rag. Black paint. Apply. Rub off. Ivory black acrylic if you've got it.

I love easy techniques.

And it's delightfully messy. Delightfully.

After that, I put together a pair of shorts for the Mouse out of blue cotton covered in sparkley silver and purple stars. Cause that's what she chose. Is too cute for words.

Tonight, I pick up the Mad Model.

And yes, I feel 100% better from yesterday. I have the best friends and family in the world. Being kicked towards the making and contemplating of art always fixes the bad brain. I just have to be reminded.

I wish that every day could be like last night.

Some day. I will have it be no other way.
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So I hung the first of my paintings in the house last night.

It's The Wasteland, the painting that consumed me after my father died, the one that I dreamed and which wouldn't leave me alone till I'd put it to canvas. I still remember the day I stood in Pearl, pulling canvas after canvas out of the racks, going, "Too small, too small, still too small," until the Ant pulled out the big one and I said, "Crap. That one."

It just fit in the hatchback of her car. It's not truly enormous, the way that say, Hazel Dooney's work is. But it's enormous by my standards. 36x48, I believe.

The painting itself flowed out of me in the space of mere days.

It still hits me. Pale blue sky horses racing over a spring time mesa. It could be Utah or the Dakotas. The great copper mesa over it all. And the black pier in the center of it all.

Yes. There's a pier in the desert. Black planks. It was one of the huge features in that long ago dream. In the dream, as dream logic will, the only reason I was able to visit that land was because I didn't touch the ground. I stood on the pier and watched the sky horses run.

They haven't left me, those horses. There's even more paintings of them in me. Occasionally I feel them stir under my breast bone. There's Storm's Rider, which I mean to block in soon. There's Sky Full of Stars, which is insisting on another enormous canvas before it'll allow me to paint it. And then, well, there's another Pegasus Rising that wants to be the size of the side of a house. Don't know if that's going to be canvas or straight up mural. I'd need the house first if it's going to be mural. It wants a 15 foot tall wall at the least.

All, horses made of sky. Morning, noon, dusk, night. Some stormy, others the perfect blue that shows up in LA. Some beclouded.

Dream interpretation and animal speak see the horse as Power. The means of crossing from the land of the living to the land of the dead. The latter has always been very clear to me, though as with Last Light of Summer, I'm beginning to think that my Horse, the ones that follow me in colors of seasonal sky, are more about transition and the ability to travel from one state to another. From the mourning of death back to life. From dream to awake. From the borders of fairyland to the street of the concrete forest I work in every day.

I've begun to have ideas for sky horses running down the pavement canyons, brilliant against the industrial grays. Pieces of summer and spring, reminders that Winter's hold never lasts.

They're intensely hopeful. Free.

I know my father sent them to me to comfort me.
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It's that time again! Time to remind you all of the books that are currently available from Hunt Press.

However, I am going to lead off with something different.

This is Aaron. This is one of Aaron's books:

Dharma Bum & The Shield of Athena
by Aaron Severson

You need to buy a copy. Seriously.

And on to the Hunt Press offerings!

The Red Shoes

By Author Name

365 Days to Enlightenment
by Ayamanatara

Support independent publishing: buy this book on Lulu.

Deschooling Gently
by Tammy Takahashi

Support independent publishing: buy this book on Lulu.

Suspended, my next photo book (the enormous coffee table/suitable for killing someone with tome) is still in proof mode. If all goes well, it'll launch in about a month, just in time for the Bean's baby shower.

I unearthed a new abstract as well in the unpacking of art, and I'll be putting that up on Etsy in the next few days or so. It's one of the smaller pieces and will be up for $100. If you're looking for a more accessible painting to own, here's your chance!

And now I must hop like a bunny.


Feb. 3rd, 2009 06:33 am
angela_n_hunt: (Default)

Egg, originally uploaded by quennessa.

Shapes and curves. Reflections. This one has texture for me. How you can almost feel the cold of the tile in that reflection.

Gray tones also came out beautifully in this one, with a nice range.

I'm still amazed I didn't topple off the step stool, shooting this sequence. It'd been a while since I'd had that much sake.

* * *

Evening was full, so picture had to wait till this morning.

Sleep was decent. That's something.

Household is awake already this morning, except for the husband. It's not a quiet morning, but that's okay. We're all congested too, which sucks, but that's a function of moving.

And now, I think I'm going to putter before work, because my brain is refusing to write anything else this morning.


Jan. 14th, 2009 09:21 am
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
Seriously falling down on the picture blogging today. Sorry, folks. Life is...interesting. And not in the Chinese curse way. I actually have hope and am remarkably cheery today, which is a huge improvement over yesterday's complete made of assness.

Rental house hunt continues. Whee.

Countrywide Offensive continues. Operation OCC is advancing, soon to be followed by Operation AG and assorted other complaints to federal agencies. Oh yes.

The only bad thing about all the living stuff going on is that my art output has dropped to a trickle. Writing especially. Though I'm thinking of taking some time this weekend to bang out an abstract and lay groundwork for the next sky horse painting. I'm just going to have to fight and figure out which of the three ideas I have wants to be a painting. They all have equal demand on my brain. And I'm also back to wanting a wall sized canvas to paint again, which always stops me because of the cost. But damn it...

I look at the huge canvas sizes and start dreaming of really really BIG brushes and really really BIG sky horses and...some day. Some day I'll cough up for a six foot by six foot canvas. Though gods know where I would work on it. I'm going to be back painting in the front room when we move. Which is actually okay. Painting is something I can do while talking to other people. It doesn't require the quiet that the writing does.

And that's enough nattering on for me.

oh bugger

Dec. 5th, 2008 08:44 am
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
Sorry. Forgot to post today's picture. But I have a very good reason.

I was working on the next photography book.

Oh my.


It's going to be a bit of a doorstop. I had no idea that I had *that much* color work that's never seen the light of day beyond the models and well, me. The work I've printed for galleries has been very limited and cherry picked and frankly, difficult to choose, because I've been blessed in getting some gorgeous work out of my models. All of them are wonderfully talented and different and unique in their own way.

And then there's the Mad Model herself.

I've been shooting her for twelve years now. In twelve years, I've gotten to watch her change and Become. She says that I'm the only one to document her turning from a girl into a woman. It's an incredible gift of trust that humbles me.

I remember thinking of the Dutch artist whose name escapes me who painted nothing but his mistress over his and her entire life. It was a meditation on the absolute of love and beauty and his work always inspires and touches me.

I hope to be able to record the Mad Model for as long and for the same reasons.

Looking over the last three years of work, all digital, I'm remembering where I was, where we were, whether in the studio or elsewhere. I'm thinking of the Mouse sitting at my feet or occasionally invading the shot or asking to push the big shiny silver button of the shutter. The author photo in the beginning of the book is an actual photograph that my three year old Mouse took of me.

It's a powerful feeling. A humbling one. I've been gifted with many helping hands when it comes to my art.

Here's to doing it as much justice as I can.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
As in home again.

Drive home was a teensy bit more involved than the drive up, but still, nothing like the one drive I did where I swear I nearly died three times on the way home. This was uneventful till the end. Fatality at the 10/405 interchange was horrible to pass and I was beyond grateful that the Mouse was asleep by that point. There are things that one does not want to have to explain or not explain to a three-year-old.

The AC on our house is the broken. Looks like the intake fan is busted and of course, the weekend and today was hot as hell.

Do I have money for a service visit?

Oh hell no.

So, to please be making with spreading the word on the print sale, cuz Momma needs to not fry like a chicken.

But moving on.

Aside from household nonsense, the weekend was frikken' awesome. The Mad Model and her live in Chef, also known as her husband, showed us an awesome time and just in general, it was a much needed break. For the weekend, it was like we were in a little bubble of zero stress, if massive creativity.

And as of right now, having massively miscounted, I now have over 900 images to sort through.


Oof da.

Someone bring me a martini and a cigarette.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)
Was sick as a damn dog yesterday. Will have yesterday's image up shortly. In the meantime, I have news!

First off, my story, "Rubies for Her" in Written Word Mag is live on their February Issue as of, well, yesterday! Check it out!


* * *

Also, jurying has begun for the Sex Issue at Projekt30. Please go vote for me (and Vanessa too, I believe she's entered). Here's their notification:

News From Projekt30: 02/05/2008

We would like to invite you to participate in the jurying process of Projekt30`s Exhibition:
The Sex Issue: Volume 3

The Sex Issue: Volume 3 is a theme exhibition so we ask that you rate works not only on their merit buts
also on how well they conform to the theme. You can find a full description of the theme here if you are

All work will be online for jurying until February 11, 2008, the final results will go online on February
14, 2008. If you have any questions regarding the jurying process please see the jurying faq located at:

If you are interested in any of the featured artists for any reason please feel free to use the "contact
this artist" link below their work.

Thank you for your time, we hope you enjoy the show!

* * *

So, that's the news for today.

My stomach still hurts and we'll see if food agrees with me. Wish me luck.


Dec. 6th, 2006 06:53 am
angela_n_hunt: (Default)

Originally uploaded by quennessa.
Turn your back on the world. Sometimes that's what it deserves.

* * *

FYI, NyQuil gives really fucking weird dreams when you're sick. Or maybe that's just me. But damn. It's all material for something, I'm sure, but at the same time, oof.

NyQuil Dreams. Gah! Feel like I'm hungover and beaten.

But I feel a LOT better this morning. Thank you, NyQuil people!

* * *

I'm in a super weird melancholy headspace this morning.

Tomorrow is December 7th. Pearl Harbor Day.

And also the day that my father died, four years ago.

They say that time heals all wounds, dulls and mellows the pain. What they don't tell you is how the feeling of missing someone you love only grows.

It has not been as hard this year as it was right after he died or the first year that he died. But there have been profoundly sad moments this year. This year, my Mouse has been much more aware of Yule and the season in general.

It was always a difficult time of year for my father. I mentioned it even in the eulogy that I read at his service, a eulogy that I only really finished on the airplane as we flew to WA state for that service. The only real case of writers block I've ever experienced. I had so much to say.

And I still do.

I know he watches over my daughter. Over me. Over my step-mother, and even my mother.

But it doesn't change how much I miss him or his big bear hugs or the twinkle in his eye when he would tell a particularly bad joke. I even miss his stubbornness and the arguments that we used to have. Isn't that the most amazing part of all? I actually miss the arguments.

Because now, looking back, I realize that they were all, all of it, his only way of telling me that he loved me. He had a hard time saying the actual words, or so it seemed sometimes.

I miss you, Poppa Bear. I hope you are having a helluva good time wherever you are on the Wheel today. I love you.
angela_n_hunt: (Default)

So I post.

Presents, wrapped. Check.

Cake, baked. Check.

Decorations, prepped. Check.

Ribs, marinating. Check.

Party lights, hung. Check.

*dusts hands*

Well, that about covers it. Last bit of cleaning tomorrow morning and runs to the store for the last minute things that always get forgotten and gosh darn it, it'll be a birthday party fit for any Toddler Queen Mouse.

I keep finding myself smiling when I sit down to rest, thinking of it all. We haven't gone that crazy really, not as crazy as I've seen some parents. But I feel the love that all three of us have put into this little party. It's the kind of party I wish that my mother would have thrown for me as a kid, but never did, because her illness impeded her.

I don't want to go back to the day job next week. I want this to go on for at leas another week and honestly, I'd be happy with it never ending.

But this too, shall pass.

* * *

I should link to it, but it's late and I need to turn in. Cosette won The Sea's Bride at the Fyrebringer benefit and loves it. Made my day to know that a piece of my work has found a home where it is loved. I sometimes feel like that's the final part of the art process for me. It's one thing for me to make all this stuff, take all these photographs, paint all these paintings... But until it finds that one person who loves having it on their wall because it makes their world a little more beautiful? It's not finished till that moment.

So, thank you, Cosette, for helping me finish The Sea's Bride.

* * *

I got the test copy of The Messy Divorce of Faith and Belief.

Boy howdy, it sure is pretty. I am damn happy with it. Now to do some minor tweaking and print the first run. How cool is that?

* * *

And that's the news from this end of the world. Wish us luck for tomorrow. We are going to be overrun by toddlers and parents with alcohol. Which is the only way to survive being overrun by toddlers as any parent will tell you.


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