Resurrection..

Tuesday, 21st September 2021

Here’s the warm up drawing..

Surprised myself: one night and a rushed drawing after not picking up a pencil in two years.

Tuesday, 14th September 2021

Right: pencils.

Cutest nose, ever: perfectly proportioned with a little, natural ridge which, yeah I don’t know why I love these little ridges on a nose, and this isn’t the reference image I’m using for her eye: I’ve got a bunch of different photos now and really, I’m not even going to be drawing the nose so I don’t know why, oh well..

The full image is much larger but I cropped the nose area out the whole because, because I just don’t feel like giving-away any more of her than that.

I’m sure there has to be a half-Indian woman somewhere who’s not gorgeous, but I am yet to fuckin’ see it: you can imagine one solitary ugly-duckling in a dark basement room somewhere, crying in her perfectly cooked curry alone – the only mixed Indian woman on earth who somehow managed to not have the hotness-gene triggered at conception.

Meanwhile, Indian men are every bit the misogynistic, abusive, constantly groping rapists they’re portrayed globally as being and there’s a cultural THING where men not only rape women with impunity, they also rape each other and apparently, due to the fact that – unlike women – the male g-spot is located in their arse around their prostate, some of these male rape victims actually start liking being fucked in the arse by other men – some more even than being with women.

In not quite a week this woman has opened my eyes to her culture (including that brief summary of Indian men, though we moved-on from that quickly since, although interesting in a sick, disgusting way, it held no appeal for either of us), and even with the slow bleed-in of Western cultural influence, there’s still no ignoring her own culture reflected in her: the way she speaks, the way she talks proverbially and in parables and the way she thinks is so radically different to any of the conceited deadheads I’ve ever spoken to in my own shit-bucket of a society.

She both thinks and speaks with the kind of philosophically centered perspectives you would expect to find in some ancient, ethereal being opposed to a flesh and blood mortal not even halfway through her life.

I’ve already pointed out some of the spooky-accurate similarities and how we have consistently managed to say what the other is thinking and though this is the first time I’ve ever spoken to an Indian woman in any kind of meaningful way I already get it: above the breath-taking physical beauty or that fatalistic, meta view of the world and life within it, there’s an almost mystic quality to her that’s just incredibly alluring.

Like I said, gorgeous – inside and out.

She does not need to express the kind of cheesy, overtly sexual cues typical from women in my own society – it’s always present in a warm, gentle, understated way that doesn’t need to be yanked out and waggled around in a grotesque display of whatever messed-up and mentally-ill idea people have here about what exactly ‘sexy’ is – almost all of which get it wrong – and come across as either seedy porn-whores or poor imitations of whatever over-sexualized character they pluck out of whatever movies they like.

But fatalistic is the word here: I have got on a plane and flown to Perth for a woman I’ve never met, which turned out to be more intensely romantic than I actually had the capacity to imagine on my own, before getting there, but this.. this is yeah I don’t know.

What I do know, is that I’ve prayed to the Universe recently to stop fucking me around and give me the woman I am meant to be with – at night, before going to sleep, most nights – and here, I’m presented with a woman who is by every measure, a perfect fit and I haven’t even listed all the things that needed to align flawlessly for the two of us to lock-onto one another: Like a row of pins in a padlock tumbler – all falling in place at once.

Stumbling across people you get along with online happens often enough to be nothing special, but this is, something else entirely.

Course there’s that twist: the kind of twist any Universe would consider a super-funny practical joke.

Sunday, 12th September 2021

This woman, she is something else entirely: physically, emotionally and mentally the most beautiful living thing to ever enter my orbit – like if the best woman I’ve had so far hovers around an 8/10, this chick’s a solid 20.

What are we at day three now? Four?

I am dumbfounded.

I will think something the night before and not get around to mentioning it to her: the very next day she’ll just randomly tell me exactly that thing I was thinking the night before – with only slightly different wording.

I have not given her the address for this site or written it where she’d stumble upon it because I don’t need her reading all my boring, rant-filled bullshit and because I’m already filling her screen all day and night anyway – she has no way of knowing I have a site, let alone a diary.

Tonight, she randomly veers off-topic – just for a moment – to tell me she has a feeling somehow, that I might write about her.

When she’s not literally plucking unformed thoughts and concepts right out my head and telling me about them, I’m sharing thoughts and opinions that could’ve come from hers and from a perspective of absolute understanding of another human being I have never possessed in my life.

I have to do a fucking great job of this eye.

Saturday, 11th September 2021

The site will go down in a few days – temporarily suspended – until I pay the bill next week, because I’ve opted to not pay it and give no fucks about it’s status of suspension right now: I am 100% engaged with this half-Indian chick and the only reason I’ve got time to even write this update, is she’s gone off to find something to eat – soon she’ll be back and we’ll be charming rings around one another again – the Tauren/Virgo clickiness resulting in two personalities melding together effortlessly.

Personalities so compatible is one thing, but there are other aspects at play here that have resulted in a very unique combination of situation and time that’s meant we’re not only willing and able to talk fluently for 8-10 hours straight every day (thank-you, lockdowns) for several days running now without EVER looking like running out of conversation, topics changing like liquid so there’s been no need at all to change it or force it along, which would be hard to do given there’s not ever actually a singular, defined subject anyway – but a matrix-esque layering of topics in and around whatever we’re talking about – it’s hard to explain, but she’s the most engaging person I’ve help a conversation with in, well ever.

But lockdowns are not even the situation or time I’m referring to.

Explanations be fucked, she’s got all my attention and without ever needing to lower herself to acting like a slapper to get my focus back on her, because it never leaves her, because she’s ridiculously intelligent and more specifically because she’s not another cheap, local slapper.

She’s gorgeous – inside and out.

As a reflection on and in acknowledgement of her beauty, I’m drawing a portrait of her eye for her: a proper oldschool one, with actual pencils and paper – in both the spirit and style of the original: girlfish.

For our Audrey Hepburn looking half-Indian goddess it’ll be an adorable little she-bull – I’ve already told her, she’s already said “Yes please:)” and I’ve had her photos several days so there’s no backing out now.

Friday, 10th September 2021

Know what, just realising there are still people who not only know the inherent value of their own innocence and how irreplaceable it is but have protected it from the diseased, grot-filled majority is like discovering unicorns are real and I don’t feel the compulsion to rant at all.

Gorgeous, half-Indian Beauty: I don’t know why half Indian chicks are so stunning while full Indian women are so not, but it is fact – just look at Norah Jones or my last landlord Joanne

Wednesday, 8th September 2021

So many fucking people in town today I found myself repeatedly having to take a breath and hold it while walking past anyone I didn’t recognise as local, as I was shopping – like the group of woggy looking teenagers yukkin’ it up without masks in Woolies.

I’ve decided I am willing to get vaccinated, but only with Pfizer: if I’m going to do it, I want a vaccine created by a real drug company, not dodgy shit from a university somwhere.

I should really book an appointment.

Stopping to say yo to Sam(antha) the other day while in town I found she isn’t vaccinated yet either and we both agreed we don’t want to, though will probably wind-up having to: she’s opined there may be a no-jab-no-job policy when we all finally get to start work again, but I don’t think the hotel will leave themselves that short of staff – they’ll want as many of us back there once shit opens up again as they can possibly get, is my prediction.

However, if we’re not vaccinated when we return to a workplace where most guests and co-workers are, those guests and co-workers are going to be spreading the virus without even knowing they’re infected since so many people will be asymptomatic and the few of us who haven’t received inoculation of any kind will be sittin’ ducks.

Still don’t want a genetically modified laboratory borne, man-made pathogen injected in me at all, but the more people become vaxxed, the more arseholes will be walking around oblivious of the fact they’re positive and just as infectious to un-vaxxed people.

And you know the more podcasts I’ve listened to about Emma Fillipoff and the more pondering I’ve done about her, I don’t believe she’s committed suicide or been murdered: I reckon she’s being held by someone, not dead at all and now I check that page again I can’t believe the entry about her disappearance doesn’t even have a photo of her – how stupid for a missing person wikipedia page.

Given the timeline around the night and even zooming in around the hours before she vanished without a trace, the most popular theory is suicide, with murder a close second but this chick was not only staying in a highly developed if not small city, the women’s refuge she was staying at was bang in the middle of downtown Victoria – yet not a single bone, nor any items of clothing or anything of hers – ever found.

By all accounts, she was both naive and innocent which – combined with her perfect skin, bone structure and general beauty – made her top-shelf grade attractive to everybody who met her: from a creepy stalker perspective how could there possibly be a woman as prized as that – whether she was drugged and tossed into the human trafficking shadows or is in an insulated, soundproof basement of some obsessed but outwardly ordinary individual – that’s where she’s gotta be.

Being snatched in 2013 when she was 26, she’d be in her mid-late thirties now and well past her physical prime, which could also mean she was offed then dumped in the woods years ago now, but I just don’t see suicide or murder being valid given the populated environment in which she was hanging around before her disappearance.

Tuesday, 7th September 2021

Dogs, are so seriously dumb it makes me smirk anytime I see some idiot walking one on a freezing, windy day and makes me so glad I never have to do that myself.

I mean the dogs literally give no fucks about how cold their walker is: walkers who invariably look like they are fucking done being out walking on days like this – the moment they step outta their houses.

Of course yeah, to see these unfortunate pet owners I have to be outside in the cold with them in the first place, but I’m out for shopping for myself, not needlessly subjecting myself to extreme discomfort for an animal that would slot into any other household and feign love for food like some sad kinda slave constantly acting indebted for basic needs it could provide for itself and actually live its life if allowed to go wild.

It’s one of countless human delusions: that we rescue or are otherwise required or needed by animals who have been trained to be nothing other than dependent on whichever humans own them, so of course they need you: they have absolutely no choice or freedom to decide anything for themselves, because they’re captive, which is part of why I do not wish to ever own another animal, but also as above the amount of pain in the arse time and effort, always having to scoop-up fecal matter and yeah freezing my dick off walking a creature I’ve imprisoned into needing me to.

Now, that’s all pretty negative and does not imply I don’t have fond memories of the countless pets I’ve had: from lizards and turtles to fish to dogs and cats and rabbits and fuck, dogs of course.

Never had a cat.

Never wanted a cat.

But the bulk of those fond memories are fond specifically because I no longer have to take care of any of them – at the time, annoyance or that blugh feeling of obligation were far more common than the warm and fuzzies.

And my god I em so over hearing about COVID, lockdowns, vaccinations and face masks: The scope of this virus – now it’s been out raging throughout the human population around the planet for a while – is kinda making me really wonder whether some fuck really, truly ‘caught’ the virus from some wet-market armadillo or whatever.

It seems way too effective a pathogen to have been started with a single dood eating some diseased meat, to me.

Far more likely it was a lab-borne experiment that broke free, though even if they had proof that’s where it started, no international governments are going to point a finger at a single country – just imagine the hate and subsequent negative effects to global trade etcetera, never-mind all the lunatics and extremists who would target whichever country fucked up in letting it loose.

So of course it makes no difference whether it’s a genetically modified man-made virus or someone sick and creepy fucked a monkey somewhere: it’s out now and that’s that.

Friday, 3rd September 2021

Moving that concept art/design over to 3D and yes I’m well aware the ears aren’t right – I’m working on them now..

Wednesday, 1st September 2021

As I said, I’m still developing the broader conceptual constraints of the graphic novel I’ve begun, though after years of doodling and sketching the cartoon version of my dead bull terrier, I’ve had the idea simmering for quite a while now and only recently realized the connection between him and the story-line that’s been sitting there waiting for almost as long as I’ve been drawing the character himself and a story that – like the dog – I’ve already got such an intimate knowledge of there’s nobody else who could bring it to life but me.

The dog himself is practically irrelevant to the plot-line, but knowing his personality and my own makes visualization so much easier though there’s yeah, like I said it’s only the ‘constraints’ to the story that need to be decided upon: everything else just pairs-up perfectly and if what I’m saying makes zero sense to anyone reading, that’s fine – I know what I’m talking about, which is all that matters.

Nice: polished and built around the perspective grid I started the blank canvas with, for accurately aligned and proportioned, shit.

It could or should be noted here that any artwork I’ve created for years has evolved over time into a highly abbreviated style: almost all drawings and paintings I’ve done are only a single colour because I’d much rather focus on combining form, shape and balance into a beautiful image, so my style meshes-in perfectly to a format like this and I haven’t even started hitting my stride yet because I’m still learning the software – as I increase my knowledge of it’s features, more sophisticated visuals will be added to my skill-set.

Back to it anyway.

Part of my daily routine now: every day when I’ve been to town and got shopping out the way etcetera, I settle-in for a night of drawing.

There’s so much more to it than you’d think of course: I could draw these scenes much, much faster with a pencil but figured, that if I’m going to invest the amount of time and effort into such a massive project as this I may as well start with the most polished medium available.

I texted one cropped section of a scene to one of the chicks at WISE Employment a few weeks ago and – after telling me how gorgeous it was – she’s said something along the lines of ‘It’s amazing what computers can do now!’, which I immediately and sharply corrected her on “The computer didn’t create ANY of it! All the computer does is allow me to draw clean lines and save them in a file!”, which is true: it’s deeply annoying when someone gives credit to the machine – like 2,000 years ago when humans first discovered they could use lead to draw instead of charcoal, someone saying ‘Hey wow! Them pencils are really talented!’

She’s the only one who’s wrongly credited my laptop for the drawing of course, so it’s not a recurring annoyance but still, it was annoying – literally, the only difference between these drawings done by hand with a pencil or on a computer, is I have the ability to undo instead of using an eraser, layers and block colour-fills for shapes I’ve drawn: I still start with a blank white canvas and create the image one line at a time the same as with any other drawing – the software doesn’t automatically create anything for me.

I mean you still have to know what you want to draw before you start and you’re ultimately going to produce a drawing that’s only as good as your ability to draw in the first place: without an “eye” for what looks good and hands capable of creating that, I would end-up with garbage using software the same as I would a pencil or paintbrush – creating it digitally really just gives you more control.

Even the ability to copy/paste – though it might sound awesome – is pretty well useless when copied objects just look cheap and, copied.

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