Been super-stressed lately and decided to take a break from a commission to draw a self-portrait. I think I’m getting better at this digital stuff…
After the statement by JKR yesterday, J-dawg text me a little scene that could have happened between Hermione and Ron. I changed it a little bit, but I scribbled it out this afternoon.
OH MY GOSH I STILL DRAW WHAT IS THIS?!
Seriously, though. I’ve been knitting/crafting like a crazy thing lately and haven’t drawn squat until yesterday. I call it, “Florida Winters.” Alternately titled “Muggle Style,” because trying to keep warm when you have no winter wear to speak of makes me feel like a wizard trying to dress like a muggle.
A fashionista, I am not.
The same man, always.
Ten: Pfft. New sonic. New TARDIS. What was so wrong with my stuff?
Nine: Oh, stop sulking.
Ten: He ruined my TARDIS!
Nine: Technically he ruined my TARDIS.
Ten: That’s right! I didn’t even get my own TARDIS, and I get blamed for your “grunge phase.”
Nine: …Rose liked it. :(
Ten: Rose… :(
Eleven: Muuuuum, they’re making the face again!
Moffat: Boys, stop making the face.
This is not only GORGEOUS artwork, but its message is so, so accurate. The fade-in and fade-out of pain as I slide in and out of consciousness every day. Its constant presence during my waking hours, even on those good days. I don’t show it all the time. I can’t, or I’d just stop functioning altogether.
"Let’s go!" It’s a mantra. A spell. Secret code. It says, "Come on, you can push through this today. You’ve got to at least try, because who knows if you’ll be able to tomorrow."
Reading this brought tears to my eyes. I’m so grateful to the artist for creating this and her blog.
T-rex likes… Holiday fripperies!
SAMI YOU NEED A DINOSAUR TREE.
THIS IS BRILLIANT ON SO MANY LEVELS
THIS IS BEAUTIFUL
Excuse me, I think you’re forgetting a few people
And last but not least…
Sorry, you seem to have forgotten my favorite.
It’s okay. He died and became a
Roman Greek demigod. It’s very distracting.
#Can you imagine if one day you’re just casually passing by your living room window when you see a familiar figure outside with a long coat and converse shoes #and your heart stops for a second as if deciding whether you finally died, but you’re alive, and so you wait for the vision to slip back into your subconscience #but it doesn’t.
#He begins to walk away and your book drops from your hand, falling open and wrinkling its pages while your legs bolt towards the front door #but by the time you fumble onto the steps all you can see is a faint outline of an old police telephone box and the distancing sound of waking dreams. #You can’t help but yell out “DOCTOR!” but it’s as noticeable as the last glimmer of the TARDIS bulb.
#Then you find that somehow the sun as gone down and that you’ve been standing on the sidewalk all afternoon, you also realize that neighbors are staring out their windows. #When you finally get inside you run into the living room and look out the window but it’s all dark now. #You step back and your heal hits something, the book, it’s still on the floor #Picking it up you look at it’s creased pages, refusing to unfold them. #An unexpected bookmark for the day you saw The Doctor.
#Ah but as you pick up the page, you notice something between the pages of the book. # A small key, left behind by someone or something to let you know he is still out there. #You breath in and glance back at the window into the night, listening for anything that might have placed that key in your book. #Nothing comes to your ears. #You clench the key in your fist and turn around, ready to head to bed and wishing that your dream was actually reality.
#That would be when the noise sounded up. #The moment when all hope was gone, you hear the sound again. #The whooshing grinding noise that brings hope back to life. #You look over your shoulder into the gloom, # seeing a faint light pierce the dark. #A blue box. #One that is bigger on the inside.# A head pops out of it and looks at you as you stare at the window.