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Love from loss WIP 2024

So you remember those pockets I wove into this fabric couple months ago? Back then I was charmed by the idea that I could hide a small item in there - I could give this fabric a secret that is part of its structure and impossible to get out unless you break the fabric itself.

So I wrote this little poem, a gentle call out for being curious enough to break my beautiful hand woven linen fabric and messaged my lovely sculptor/jewel smith friend.

Yesterday we were finally able to realize my vision! These tiny bronze plaques are made to hide in the fabric - peeking through shiny enough that you see that there is something there to tease at your imagination but - impossible to get out or read without breaking it.

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Phantom Limb syndrome

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my piece for @/the-candlenights-zone gift exchange for @grumpyybee !

She wanted the Coriolis crew celebrating Candlenights aboard their ship, and I was more than happy to oblige 🫡❤️

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heye every one.

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“here there be gerblins” is like what if you couldn’t save everyone. “petals to the metal” is like what if the love was there and it couldn’t save everyone but the love was still there. “crystal kingdom” is like what if the love was there and it couldn’t save everyone and it actually made things worse but the love was there. “the eleventh hour” is like what if love started all of this but you couldn’t save everyone (you couldn’t save everyone (you couldn’t save everyone (you couldn’t save everyone (you couldn’t save everyone (you could save everyone))))). “stolen century” is like what if you could try again (what if there was love) (what if you could try again).

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This is an incredible story.

A man assassinates a former prime minister and gives his demands to the government who turn around and go “Actually yeah, these are quite a good ideas.”

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oatmeal cookie haters can’t touch me. i understand things about this world you never will

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Been talking about this with friends so I present to you, the cursed spectrum of media literacy

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i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point

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Been very emotional about the John Dies At The End series for the past few weeks and have a lot of illustration ideas, but first I had to figure out how I wanted to draw Dave.

I really like the one where he's holding Franky's head and making the ૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა face

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Just checking!

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rb to stare at a mutual like this:

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a little more than 2/3 done with wthdijr and can i just say this book makes it so. clear. how much johndaveamy love each other?? like it’s in the subtleties but you can just tell they love each other so much. from dave hugging john when he thought he died, to the three of them saying they’ll find each other no matter what when tasker tries to split them up, hell just dave saying “there’s plainly a woman living here […] unless they’re yours, which again, the only thing that would bug me is that you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

this book, amongst everything, is so full of love

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The Fates but instead of three old ladies they’re the McElroy brothers