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Marian Churchland

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The Birds and the Beast [27 Jun 2009|12:00am]

Thanks very much to everybody who contacted me about buying art. And thanks very particularly, as well, to Steve Rolston, and Warren Ellis, and anybody else who might have made a mention of it on their own terrain - very much appreciated.

If anybody who hasn't contacted me already is interested in a commission, I'm going to put off doing any new art until September. But there are still a lot of originals available. I should have mentioned that there are still two or three Conan: Trophy pages, and a lot of what is up on my deviantart page in terms of various drawings, and paintings, and the like. As for what I've got in hand to work on, all of it is remarkably fun, and I hope to have everyone's package sent off with extra flair and panache within the next two or three weeks. Thanks again.

Ok, I don't think I've mentioned yet, up here, that Beast is going to be published by Image in September. It's in previews, this month. Here's the cover,



I'm in the process of finishing the book off, now - drawing a few last minute new scenes, and freaking out about how most of it is three years old, and so on. So it will be sort of a patchwork affair, but I think I'm rather proud of it.

In the traditional spirit of the pending a one-month-away deadline, and suddenly having desperate urges to seek out new and all-consuming distractions, I bought a Castlevania game for the DS. It's actually reasonably hard, which is pleasing, and has a lady for the main character, which I would have wept-for-joy over in high school. I did a sketch of her, last night (hopefully whichever package it gets put in has a die hard Castlevania fan on the other end).



You're not too scantily clad, Shanoa, even though you are kind of an armoured gothic lolita. You have a scary witchy lady look, which I find pleasing. I can get behind it, I think. Maybe. Grudgingly. We'll see how things play out.
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Mastersword Deal, and Friends [23 Jun 2009|01:08pm]
The Family Bathat Bontrap could use a little income right now, so to start with, I want to put up some of my elephantmen original pages for sale. They are 11"x17", coloured with copic markers, and I'm selling them for $75 each, including shipping. If you are interested, you can email me, and let me know which one you'd like. Incidentally, if you have your eye on any particular piece I've done in the last year or two, don't hesitate to ask.

If you'd rather have something new, I will offer up 8.5x11 coloured drawings for $50. Anything you want. I mean, you know, within reason and stuff. 

Last of all, I have this one lone copy of the Damaged Goods trade, which collects all three issues. It isn't being released until SDCC, and I thought I'd put together a special package for anybody who wants it a month early.


Let's call it the MASTERSWORD deal. Just because. For $250, including shipping, You get the Damaged Goods trade, and three original pages of your choice (dependent on availability), and a nice, coloured drawing of whatever you like, be it Elephantmen related, or somebody from your favourite 80's cartoon, or your own character, or my own character. On top of this, you will also get a few extra sketches from me (you can make a request or two, here, as well), and a Brandon Graham sketch. He doesn't know about this yet, but that's ok, I'm sure he'll be into it.

I always add an extra sketch to whatever I'm sending off, be it special deal or not. And damn am I ever prompt about it.

Ok, enough hustle for now.

When David was visiting, we all made Love and Hate lists (he drew the guys on the bottom, by the way). I decided to tidy mine up this morning.


Surely every woman must have her own LOVE/HATE list criteria, but for my part, I decided that I had to keep it to simple animal loves, and simple animal hates. Nothing too exceedingly serious. Nothing too abstract, like how I love the moment when you land the perfect detail for a story that just brings the whole thing together and makes the idea kind of go live, like you've closed the circuit and flipped the electrical switch. And nothing too insanely specific, like I how I hate it when you're taking an exam, or doing some similarly quiet and location-specific activity, and somebody decides that this is a good time to eat their very sloshy, sticky-sounding breakfast. And since life seems to work this way, they probably also have an impossibly squeaky pencil. Nothing like that, yeah? Or I'd never be able to stop. Anyway, if this list tells us anything, it's that I am a sissy, and a god damn dandy. I should have been born a 19th century gentleman.

What else. Here's the cover I did for Brandon's third King City issue. The woman from the ass. I will say no more.



And to end this with something a little more my speed, here's a sketch I did of Elephantmen's Yvette, for my brother in the trenches, Justin Norman.

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All or muffin [07 May 2009|05:28pm]
Today is the first day of not-working I've had in ages, so I'm doing all the mundane life things that need tending to, like livejournal posts, and restocking the tea, and, oh shit, I need to make Brandon go get laundry tokens... DONE. And I need to go to the tailor, come to think of it, but it's too late for that now.

So these last few weeks I've been finishing up all the extras for the book that will collect my issues of Elephantmen, 18-20 (called Damaged Goods, to be released at SDCC).

Number 19 is out next week. Here's one of the panels from it,


And here are a couple of panels from the short story I did for the collection,


I'm particularly excited about this, because Richard Starkings (brave man) let me write it myself. I grew to particulalrly like the Miki character, despite my initial grumblings about how drawing wasp-waisted big-tittied ladies is not my thing, and I wanted to do something with her beyond simply illustrating the issue.

In any case, both the individual issues, and the collection have plenty of extra content. Always some good heft for your buck, with this series, and there are so many additional drawings and sketches by me, in these, I'm almost embarrassed.
 
I'm almost sad my endless string of deadlines is done with. Well, not done with, exactly, but on pause for a few days. I mean, I'm a snarling bitch when I'm overworked, but there's an odd comfort in always having something to do, and about half the minimum-required-time-for-remaining-sane in which to do it. My coping mechanism, lately, has been to listen to BBC radio 3 (and alternately radio 4) while I work, particularly when it's 11pm here, and the 7am Breakfast show starts, with the UK weather, and the UK news. It's so damn cozy. But it also gently shucks you from the smallness of your scary deadline-centric world, with all that information about things that mean almost nothing to you, but are a big deal elsewhere.

Today, as a kind of winding-down exercise, I drew a FFVI fanart (speaking of cozy). Celes cross-dressed in Locke's clothing. Marian-speak for HOT.



I often think about how the things we encountered and loved at certain crucial ages forever cement our ideas about what's exciting, and cool, and visually appealing. And because we were children, and that stuff had nothing to do with grown-up ideas about what is tasteful and ok to like, I think a lot of us do a sort of hide-it-under-the-mattress trick. Though come to think of it, all the artists I know seem to be pretty friendly with their childhood culture. I'm sure there are all sorts of connections there.


As well, this morning, over my muffin and tea, I made a diagram of Pants I Want.


The muffins at Our Town, my chosen cafe in the new neighborhood, are fantastic. I am very particular about muffins, and I dislike anything that's too neat and uniform, like a cupcake with fruit in it. No, muffins should be a lovely, messy, hearty wodge. I need a camera, in fact, so I can inflict muffin pictures on the lot of you, then you can see exactly what I mean (just like you always wanted).  
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Lost Continent [17 Apr 2009|12:50pm]

Yelloo.

I've dredged myself up out of a deep hibernation-from-internet state, and am now looking about me with moist and squinting eyes. Actually, that's not quite accurate, since at the moment I don't, in fact, have an internet connection. But later this evening (it turned into the next morning, in fact) I'll find one, then I'll post this, and then it will be like I said about the moist and squinting thing.

Anyway, before I get all boring, I did a picture of a cat with a peg leg, for Jacob's cats with peg legs shout-out. Sort of a cat, anyway. Sort of a peg leg.

And Elephantmen #18, the first of my three issues, is available sometime next week in comic stores, or soon afterwards (I suppose I should research this sort of thing, before I make announcements). Here is my flip-cover for it,



 

On to the boring...Collapse )
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[15 Aug 2008|05:13pm]
I just finished the first of three issues of Elephantmen that I'll be drawing over the course of the next several months . Here's a page,

 
I did this comic all in markers. Which is lovely fun, but will have to stop when I'm done with this project because I can't afford to keep up with the refills, no matter how deeply I raid the fatty larders of my innocent and yielding parents.

Speaking of raiding things deeply, though, since my last post I've been looking through more piles of my adolescent art. There was one particularly large stack, with this picture on top,

which is just a study of a Gordon Smith painting, but it was acting as a clever decoy against the contents beneath, and that is how I will use it now, as no doubt many of you will not notice my 
In closing, I found this weird egg cup in the shape of a pink lion who looks like he's trying to think of a nice way to tell somebody that they look fat. Now I have to have soft boiled eggs and buttered toast soldiers - most perfect food in the world - every single day, or probably I will die.

 
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Hot Buttered Toast Action [13 Jul 2008|01:53pm]
[ mood | burly ]


Here's a weird stylized drawing of Beast.

I've got a few days left of sweet sweet cabin come-run-the-hidden-pinetrails-of-the-forest fantasy adventures left, before I have to go back to the city. If I could live up here, I would - I am, I believe, a woman of equal parts leisure and wilderness adventure.

And pudding.

I've been making lots of things with my hands, while Ive been up here. And I'm not even counting drawing, because that's more your brain dragging your fingers dragging your mostly-inert hand around, comparatively speaking. But things like pie, and deep-woods construction projects. Doing things on this full-body elbows-deep level is the basis of creativity, for me. Probably something to do with how I'd get my dad to make me TMNT sewer bases, and She-ra fortresses when I was a kid (as if these were normal requests), and he'd involve me in whichever steps didn't feature the man-killing table saw. Projects like that were sort of a progenitor for the comics I made later, I think, when the idea of including my parents in whatever I was working on was, like, soooo lame man.

I've also been getting uncharacteristic quantities of fresh-air and exercise, here, since I'm constantly having to walk, which is to say, sprint around with these giant dogs I'm taking care of, otherwise they chew my expensive pens, and my somewhat less expensive shoes, and Brandon's shoes (which already look like they've been chewed by dogs anyway). So as a result of all this, and three breakfasts a day, I'm really getting quite pleasingly burly.

Pleasingly burly!


I don't know what that gentle-looking spotted polar-bear creature is that she's killed, but I feel a bit guilty about it.



Lastly, while being here I found a big folder of my old art dating back to when I was, like, two years old. And I know that it's really only me who's interested, but I couldn't fight the self-absorption, and I scanned a bunch of them up.

I'll put them all behind one of these CUT things, though , which yes, I finally and unwillingly figured out how to do.

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Dogs in Space [14 Jun 2008|11:28pm]
[ mood | Dogs in Space ]

Let's talk about GODLORD.

I don't want to say I'm a person of reasonable, moderate tastes, because I am not. But still, still,  even in my most obsessive of hedonistic moods I would never pay FIVE DOLLARS for some tiny fucking bottle of stuff that tastes like pain, even pain in a good, stinging-tongue sort of way. Except that I do, now, and not only will I not apologize for it, I will draw a comic about it, and make you read it.

 
Sweet GODLORD, drink of kings.

So I turn 26 in about five minutes. "Gateway to your 30's" my friend Sachi said at her 26th birthday, but I was a tender 24 back then, so I thought she was crazy. But I wonder, now, if maybe she wasn't.

All I really want to do tomorrow is read my book and eat cheese, the very finest cheese, with three or four desserts at appropriate intervals. Which is how I conduct my business, for the most part, daily. But better-than-usual cheeses, and more-than-usual desserts.

Let's see. I did a nice comission today.



I came up with the best bad Conan joke ten minutes ago, which asks what a saucy tavern whore would say to Conan, and it's "do you want to CROM on my face, or CROM on my chest?" Yes? Anyone?

Anyway, I was thinking I ought to put this up,


Which is the un-coloured page three from the abortive start to my next big graphic novel, almost half a year old already. I stopped because I realized there was no way I could work without writing a script, first. And these pages will never be used, because they're slightly too cartoonish for the purpose, and on the wrong sort of paper, but I like those shoes in the lower lefthand corner.

I have business in the other room, now, where Claire's dog Happy is lying on her back with her feets sticking in the air. 

Fucking 26. Wish me cheeses.

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[05 Jun 2008|01:13pm]
The Conan story I was working on last month is up on darkhorse presents.

 

And if Conan isn't your thing, but you're still after swinging tits and perilous excitement, then there's this as well,



Which, I know, just took up 98% of your friend page, but don't hate me - I have no idea how to do that behind-the-cut thing. And secretly I like the elbow room it gives me, not bothering to learn.

In other news, I'm beginning to understand why adults spend all their time eating - and talking about eating - fancy cheeses (on fancy crackers, but that's a complete subject in itself). Fancy cheeses are like five levels up on an already good thing, and yes, yes I will pay $10 for this on-purpose-mouldy wodge of something I can't pronounce. 

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Page 47 [27 Feb 2008|11:08pm]
[ mood | bath ]

I  couldn't draw today, so I decided to warm up (which is such a ridiculous term, in my case, because I never actually "warm up", I just draw something else until the day is over and then I fall asleep) by doing a final fantasy tactics thing. I've been listening to the final fantasy tactics soundtrack so much, lately, that I actually find myself quietly humming it when I'm in stressful situations. Strange and creepy. Anyway, this is the ninja job class girl, but she's wearing the samurai job class man's helmet just because I think it looks rad. The comic in the background, insofar as it makes any sense, is about an ahriman who's sad all the time and watches lots of star trek.

I was at wondercon last weekend. Those things are stressful, but Violet let me and Brandon stay at his place for the duration, which made everything easier and better. And all the usual meeting nice new people and whatnot. The highlight of the whole thing was during Brandon's panel, when right at the end I noticed this tiny moustached chef man at the bottom corner of the convention pamphlet thing, and it became Doug's badge for the rest of the day - Doug, with whom I am sharing proud parenthood of a new healthy baby master sword. May it grow to be strapping and burly.



I love that chef man so much, WHO IS HE?

I'm going to go follow the day to an enthusiastic bring-it-home jazz-hands close by taking a bath. Bath with fizzy. The best kind, by the way, is GEROLSTEINER. German. No apologies. The hard man's fizzy-drink.

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Meats and Cheeses [07 Feb 2008|11:52am]
[ mood | mocha ]

Brandon Graham, gentleman and scholar, leviathan amongst the minnows, engineered this fine set-up. There were fur samples. They looked like moustaches. It was out of my hands.



It's upsetting that I can't pull off a fake moustache nearly as well as a grown man. I just founded a rape gang with James Stokoe, though, so it's important that I work on looking as dirty and shifty as possible.

In other news, I'm close to being able to start my next comic, if I can just sit down and write the first scene. I feel like writing is a more abstract and difficult process than drawing. You can get after youself with a stick, if you're having a week where you can't draw, but if you push writing too much when it hasn't settled into its final shape, the whole thing might fall apart in your hands. Fucking terrifying. Anyway, here's a picture of the main character from that project,



And one of Colette, from Beast,



Let's see. Other stuff. I'll be down in San Fransisco for that wondercon thing. I just got my hair cut. Now I'm thinking about what kind of hearty barbarian meats I might go buy, so I can eat them in front of yet more star trek. Life is my tasty hand shucked and buttered oyster.

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Prem Flounder Noses [22 Jan 2008|12:04am]
[ mood | Fizzy ]

I’m dogsitting all alone at my parents’ house for a while, and I dug up this ancient DOS run german rpg, from back when computers were made out of wooden gears and ran on steam power and people still sacrificed their virgin daughters to the Sun God. Anyway, I started playing, and it was the best thing ever, EVER, and I couldn’t stop, and after two days of doing nothing else I had to bury the old thinkpad that it runs on deep in the basement, under the floorboards a-la-Telltale Heart, so I could get on with life. And still, like an addict I’ve been sneaking down and playing a few more hours of it, and then putting it away again.

But this is for real-for real. I actually have to get work done like a proper adult. But oh! I was in the middle of one of those dungeons where you get captured by orcs and stripped of your equiptment, and then you have to fight your way out all tooth-and-nail, using anything you can find, knives and flasks of oil and whatnot. I fucking love that badass ironman shit. My other favourite part of the game is the weird herb-gathering function. Hours and hours of moving around the overworld map (just a winding red line, by the way, no actual character animation), and stopping to set up camp, and sending your mage out to find herbs.

In any case, I did a fanart as a fond-goodbye-for-now (although I don’t think “fanart” really qualifies since the sprites are like ten pixels large, and there’s more creative guessing involved than not).

In other news, I redesigned my old website, coldtokyo. Or rather, I dredged up my favourite of the old designs, and worked around that.  Deviantart And Friends have sort of replaced the personal site, haven’t they, but I’m still glad that coldtokyo is there, quietly doing its thing.

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Little Lord Fontleroy's School for Albino Hemopheliacs [04 Jan 2008|11:57am]
[ mood | Moobs ]

First of all, here's a huge picture I drew on the door of Dicecat months ago, but never bothered to photograph until recently. I love drawing large-scale - it feels like it employs a part of the brain totally seperate from the fiddly hunched-over-your-comic page stuff. Some day when I'm older, and richer, and have been working at this so long that it's driven me eccentric, I'm going to make an entire comic on paper this big. WATCH ME.


More recently, I've been looking through my old Capcom Illustrations - it was one of those Your Life Has Changed moments, buying that book when I was fifteen, at a tiny import Japanese game-and-toy store outside of LA. It's funny how all the art that really floored me, at that age, is less impressive to me now, and I'm so much more interested in the weird tiny things I never noticed before. I kind of based the look of this Le Poulet Terrible thing below on some of that stuff (and actually, that second panel is almost a total rip-off. Appropriation, let's say).

I'm sure the French is incredibly awkward, too. I always feel like being Canadian gives me some kind of Official French Language License, Do With It As You Will. If it does, then I'm misusing it now. Anyway, the purpose of the French was to make it all the more obscene, when the chubby chicken busts out. Little French adventerer dudes are classier than little English adventurer dudes, even with glaring mistakes.

Anyway, Brandon did the lettering on this. All sexy and European-like.


I hate that Chubby Chicken. I hate it SO MUCH. I don't even know if your A&Ws in the United States of Acimera even have the Chubby Chicken, but it is GROTESQUE. Its weird slick wiry hair, and its jutting chicken ass, and its troubling line of moob definition drawn down the centre of its soft chest. A&W is so good, though. Isn't that always how it goes.



That is that, I suppose. Lately my days have been about drawing all the time, and watching endless episodes of TNG while eating take-out , or something that has been fried up for me in copius amounts of butter. The seams of my jeans are creaking. Life is good.

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Tasks [21 Dec 2007|12:59am]
I made this thing for my sister.



It's a little dude that's going to travel with her when she drives accross Canada next month. His name is Pino Delesac. Which, yes, and let's not all point it out at once, sounds like Penis Delesack. Part of the charm, OK? Part of the charm. Also, his favorite food is croissants.

If my sister is reading this, then I'm fucked.

Tomorrow I drive to Seattle in my ailing car, which seems like the most insurmountable task in the world, but I have to do it for Queen and Country. Gotta serve your country, gotta service your girl, in the immortal words of Meatloaf. And I wouldn't have contracted "got to" into "gotta" for anything less.

Now I have to sleep. Most important thing ever.
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[18 Dec 2007|01:54pm]
Breakfast was good, it involved fancy toast and french marmalade. Lady marmalade, you might say.

Here are a couple pages from my comic Beast that I've been working on (and off) over the last year and a half. Lately I've picked up toning it, since it finally occurred to me that I'm never going to wake up one morning and find a fully toned comic beside an empty glass of milk and a plate full of crumbs (and maybe that greyskull castle set that my friend Erik had, that I asked for one year when I was five or six, but never got).

Anyway, I'm more excited about Beast, as it begins to actually look finished. Brandon is going to do the lettering, and these are two test pages (not properly cropped or anything, yet),




And no lettering on this one, but to give you more of an idea,



It occurs to me now that I've put up almost nothing from this comic that actually shows the Beast character. Maybe that works. I'll let him remain mysterious for a while.

Now I have to go out in the world and find batteries for my camera, and use the last of my monies to pay my late, late electrical bill, because they threatened to cut off my power. I like the word "monies", by the way. It sounds like something cute.
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Want? [18 Dec 2007|12:25am]
[ mood | complacent ]

I've decided to ressurect this thing, and start putting up pictures and stuff on it. I mean, you know, sometimes I'll draw a brilliant lizard-lord barbarian-tentacle-sex thing on a napkin, and it's fucking awesome, but it doesn't really want to go up on deviantart. Deviantart is reserved for the finer facets of life, like the art equivalent of Veuve Clicquot, and baguettes, and some kind of spotty cheese. Anyway, I don't know why I'm trying to justify myself to the internet. The internet doesn't care whether or not I use my livejournal, or how I'm feeling today, or what video I might be streaming off her ample flanks. Oh internet.

Anyway, in that spirit, here's a fanart. Sort of. These are Brandon's (royalboiler) characters, Pete and Sexica and Earthling. I loff them. Also my dog, on the right. I loff him too.



I meant to put up some comic pages today, as well, but I'm tired, so I'm leaving it until tomorrow. 

I'm very excited about breakfast. I need to sleep, and make that happen faster.

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Smack the what? [21 Oct 2005|01:02pm]
mortedarthur.blogspot.com
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[10 Sep 2002|10:30pm]
There’s homework I ought to be doing right now, but it doesn’t appear to be happening. Which is to say, my homework doesn’t seem to have any propulsion, independent of myself. I’m trying to think how I might be able to transform an old showerhead and an elapsed playstation into a practical homework motor, but it isn’t coming to me. Maybe if I dig up the spaceship Lego.

I keep having dreams about cats, pushing their little feathery faces into mine. Little cats. I keep coming across them, in books, and so on. But I’m allergic to them! Allergic! If you can imagine me saying this with the most drizzling tone possible, then do so.
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[07 Sep 2002|01:57pm]
When I lived in Toronto, I used to walk down to the harbour a couple of nights a week to visit the 24-hour coffee store. I would buy a mulled cranberry thing, which is exclusive to Second Cup, I think, and then I would trace this long route beside the lake, past hotels, and restaurants, and docks. Eventually, I would come to this wide deserted dark stretch by a massive office complex, and pause, and turn back, under the scrutiny of the end-of-the-road security guard.
The lake had all sorts of strange – they must have been – tourist attractions, like musical rock gardens, and nature sanctuaries that had become nothing more than dirty concrete cavities with faded pictures of blue herons. There was this big metal globe that I particularly liked, because you could go inside and make echoes, while the lake water splattered around below your feet. The chief attraction for me, however, was the ducks. Ducks are companionable, and when you’re lonely, this is the sort of thing you have to figure out. Ducks are companionable, whereas squirrels are not (especially the balding Toronto squirrels), nor are pigeons.
I would make my way back as the pubs hit closing time, and people would stream out onto the main streets with me, like some kind of creepy homeward escort. All of us would line up for hotdogs at King and Spadina, because walking is hungry work, and so is getting sloshed.
Sometimes I got back late enough that the Italian bakery would just be opening, and then I would walk a little further, and buy a loaf of potato bread. Mostly I just went straight home, and was asleep before I crossed the threshold of my apartment.
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[02 Sep 2002|10:29pm]
I run, now. I run for impossible spans of time like someone in a Banana Yoshimoto story. It’s my last stand. Against something.

When I was thirteen, I was in love with this guy who wrote for a videogame magazine. His name was Takuhi. He said the most extraordinarily funny things. He liked Final Fantasy, and Night Warriors. I imagined that we were dating, and that he owned a shiny sports car, and that we would spend all our time at the arcade.
I was thirteen. So my judgement was a little bit off. But none of that matters, because Takuhi was it. He was IT.
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[26 Aug 2002|10:39am]
So evidently my sister had a good basketball game, today. She made some good moves, or something. That's the kind of statement which means nothing to me, but brings up vivid images of muscle bound girls making thigh-shaking mad dashes at hoops in the air to everyone else in my family.
My sister can, in fact, be a little scary at times. Occasionally, I'll walk into her room looking for the dictionary, or something, and she'll just have finished off one of her, she calls them, "core pyramids". And her fucking abdominals! There are at least twelve or so of those lumpy things, and when she stands in the sun, it makes you a little sea sick to look at them.
It might seem odd that I worship my little sister so unabashedly. But you'd worship her too. She'd make you.

At any rate. I'm going up to Bowen for a week, in mad persuit of peace of mind, whatever that looks like. When I get back, I have to go to school. And read books not strictly of my own choosing. And possibly even write some essays?
I wish I was a mathematical genius. Or a farmer. I wish I was a farmer who had rural formative years.
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