Music From Another Room.

As I sit on the couch, light being slowly leeched from my surroundings, I hear music from another room. Real music, with real instruments, played in conjunction with honest laughter by real musicians.

Lucky doesn't come close to describing how I feel having this in my life, and knowing Our Archer will grow up immersed in it, just like I did.

The Boy and Doppelgänger were joined by their missing member, codename: Guitar Man, and, guided by a few drinks, began compiling some old notes.
Hopefully, with the Guitar Man's permanent return, music will become like air in this house. The way it should be.

I sketched as I listened, feeling comforted by this familiar life.

Good Morning, Winter.

Today I;
collected pinecones to add to my stash of kindling. 

Very much looking forward to lighting the fire for the first time in our new house. I have a romantic clip in my head of lazing on the carpet, glass of something sophisticated in my hand, talking long into the night with only the warm glow of flames to play across our world.

dealt with the bank and tried to remain calm.

Institutions like you to jump through hoops, and there are times I really do wonder, 'is it just for their enjoyment?'

heard that two good friends are breaking up.

Codename: White Mustang and Codename: Nightingale seemed happy. But one of them wasn't. Endings are sad, and cruel, and never fair... and remind me (as selfish as it is) that what I have is constant, ever-changing yet solid. 

Let's Re-Draw!

I have ancient folders pushed aside on my bookshelves, filled with scribbles and sketches from what I snobbishly refer to as, "my youth." Nearly every page of these folders holds a character from my roleplaying days. Many are incomplete or boast a common attribute; person with hands held behind their back - because hands, to a thirteen year old, were an unnecessary challenge :)

A couple of times over the years I've re-visited these characters and drawn them again. I like to see the difference in styles and skill when they're only a few years between remakes, but when it gets up around the ten year mark my progress (or lack-therof) gets me a little down... but, hey, that's what practice is all about!

Anyway, it's all just for a little fun.

"Henna" 

A Limited Palette.

The countless times I've heard an artist's paraphrase of, "I can't work under these conditions."
It was mostly students I'd hear, because it was mostly students I'd hang out with, and they'd sit, making excuses for their lack-of-art, always blaming it on their lack of good supplies.
These are the only days I wish I was better, more professional, more well known in the art world... just so I could rub it in their faces.
Better quality supplies do not equal a superior piece of art. And the most expensive graphite in the world isn't going to be any help to someone who's never held a pencil in his life.

I'm not an accomplished artist - I rarely practice, and only sketch things for my personal enjoyment, that's why it's called a hobby.

But this is my quick painting I did in food colouring.

The box of four colours cost me about two dollars fifty.

Simple Mediums.

Pen work in my "free time."

Two Years.

Two Years is a Long and Short Time.

All my paints are still packed away somewhere, so I was left with a writing pen, a white pen and spit. Never neglect spit... so many uses :)

The Constant Things That Never Change.

I find a lot of musings I've written - some amongst smudged pages in my sketchbooks, some scattered across different blogs I've used over the years - and the most frequent subjects are a) The Rain, and b) The Months of Autumn. And here I am, in autumn, listening to the rain, breathing in that wet earth smell and soaking up the chilled breeze through my skin to my soul.
The fridge is humming, the tv's glowing softly and there's a pool of water threatening to spill in through the back door. Life is rarely this uncomplicated. But it has its moments, and they'll always come again.