I accidentally found a list a few days ago… ‘52 weeks of drawings.‘ I read through it and moved on. But it popped into my head later that day. Maybe it’s something I need. Something different. I’d been thinking of finding some sort of 52-week writing challenge… but I already have notes and scribbles all over the place for writing projects. I shouldn’t add another… that would be crazy. And since when do I do anything crazy? (I know… all the time…)
Of course, it’s not like I won’t have words along with my drawings. I can never shut up…
I can’t commit to one drawing style. I think I’m going to experiment… doodles, digital drawings, quick drawings as though I’m playing Pictionary, and I guess… photorealism. To be honest, that’s my least favorite. So, of course, that’s where I began. (I know… I have no idea what’s wrong with me either.)
week 1: artist’s choice
I received a little gift some time ago that I adore. It’s a light. A nightlight. I wish he would come to life.
I am Baymax… your personal healthcare companion.
Please be gentle… I haven’t done a drawing like this for years…
This hellish year that is 2016 will come to an end tonight. Oh, the date doesn’t matter. When the clock abandons 11:59… a huge change… a wave of relief… will not come. But still. The simple fact that my brain is allowing me to imagine a better year ahead is a major accomplishment for me.
I’m sure it’s not a surprise that I don’t have a resolution… such a cliché… total crap. We make changes when we’re ready… when we’re in the right mindspace… when we can. A calendar cannot dictate such things…
But I do have a few things to say as this crap year ends… in my usual uplifting manner. Let’s begin.
What the fuck?
I know life’s not always easy but is it ever? Did anything go my way this year? Fuck if I can remember a thing. Ooh, wait… there was that one day I hit all the green lights on the way to Target. Yeah. Woo hoo. Go me.
My cousin, quite possibly the sweetest, strongest guy I know, is still here. But, dammit, why him? He’s been through so much and now he’s got the fucking cancer that won’t quit.
And I can’t find a fucking job. Maybe if I was looking for an actual “fucking” job, I’d have more success. Why does everything on earth revolve around money? And yes, it does. And yes, it can buy happiness. At least some kinds of happiness. But hell, what do I know? I’m a little unclear on happiness.
My relationship with my husband has become… strained? Weird? I can’t find the right word. It’s not horrible. It’s not miserable. But it’s just… kind of… there. I miss the love (in every sense). Supposedly it’s still there… but it’s virtually undetectable. The less I find it, the less I feel it myself. And loneliness fucking hurts.
The rest of the world? I can’t even write about it. And I’m sure I don’t have to. The world has gone mad.
To sum up…
Fuck off, 2016.
But… I’m trying to have an attitude outside of despair…
And I feel that I must quote this whole damn song… (which I love so very much…)
Imagine there’s no heaven It’s easy if you try No hell below us Above us, only sky Imagine all the people living for today
Imagine there’s no countries It isn’t hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion, too Imagine all the people living life in peace You…
You may say I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope some day you’ll join us And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions I wonder if you can No need for greed or hunger A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people sharing all the world
You may say I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope some day you’ll join us And the world will live as one
I wish for you, my friends, for whom I am so grateful, a year better than the last.
This man brought much joy to my (much) younger years. When I saw him live, I managed to get myself (through proper means, of course) backstage. I shook the man’s hand and he kissed my cheek. He was so nice. I don’t care about the sordid news stories about him that later surfaced… he was a great guy who treated his fans well.
Rest in peace, GM. I’ll miss you.
But I need some time off from that emotion Time to pick my heart up off the floor When that love comes down without devotion Well it takes a strong man, baby But I’m showing you the door
Before the fiction… a special message. From me. (Who the hell else would it be from?)
Number 50…
On 27 November 2015, I posted fiction friday number 1. It’s been 56 weeks… today is the 57th Friday but the 50th post. So I missed 7. I’m kind of amazed! In the beginning, I didn’t truly believe this would last. I didn’t truly believe anyone would read or care or enjoy what I was posting. I know — that’s me… positive as ever!
The piece below was originally intended to be just a scene. I had no plans to continue the story. It wasn’t meant to begin a series (even though I had already written a draft the of whole story). But when readers wanted more, I didn’t want to disappoint. And that’s part of why this story is a bit disjointed. I hadn’t fixed the timeline jumps yet… but I was in the middle of posting so I had to wing it, editing as I went along. In my own document off-blog, I have since fixed this… kind of. (But I’m sure I’ll revisit it 50 more times…)
I thought today was the right Friday to repost this one. You may never want to read more than this single post, but if you do, the story is here, in 13 posts. If you go up there ^ to the menu and hover over fiction, you’ll see roses are blue… click that. Or just click this.
If you’re bored over the holidays or you just need to escape the lunatic ravings of Aunt Dumbass or the slurred stories of Uncle Drunky, maybe you’ll want something to read. So in those difficult times, think of me.
Happy Holidays… whichever you celebrate… or don’t celebrate… or whatever.
Happy Whatever.
Please know that I would send you positive thoughts and good vibes if I had any. You guys are the best and I’d have gone mad (or more mad) this past year without you. Maybe next year, I’ll be less Grinchy. But I doubt it. It’s just who I am.
Who the hell was that guy? Leaving… with her… touching her…?
I’m losing her. I can’t… God, I can’t lose her. I can’t breathe. I should follow them. No. I can’t do that. I have to let her go. For now.
Before the fiction… a special message. From me. (Who the hell else would it be from?)
what sandra thinks 