The plane with beak of duck flies quietly on the breath of dead children. They walk on tiptoe in front of my mill of wind, provisionally, by planting suggestions of tomatoes and aphasia. The liberated herring, by overturning forward, by bowing under the weight of lost friends. Spaghettis come, but once a year always carried by high shoulders and hope low. It comes and he goes, by leaving panting hyraxes in his wake. It is the complete wait of nonsense. Are you there, by smelling the butter to see if it is exhaled? Heavy coverages, I calculate it is for it that.


Sketchbook 6

A bunch of things I'd been reading snuck into this one. The shite balance and levels need to sorted but I'm running mspaint at the moment, so until I instal CS4 and have the time to use it etc... Additionally, spilled a bunch of water on it and all those sticky gouaches reactivated and stuck together so some of them 'drawings with paint' have been thoroughly soiled.
A bunch of
A bunch of
A bunch of
A bunch of
A bunch of


Wolf Lady

crappy paper cardboard frame and dubious colouring in, I like the drawing mind and the frame has a stand at the back with a little nook to tuck it into.
Forgot to credit the awesome design tests Marie Thorhauge did for A M's Old Fangs which were its inspiration.
Back from Bellend, I'm truly not impulsive
Highlight: A lovely little bull terrier cosied up to me by the Lagann/Satehs at Thai Restaurant/ Onion Bhaji at Indian
Lowlight: Had fierce cold sweats last night and migraine both nights at hostel.

I changed the secret invisible link header a while back