#got to try out a few things I'd observed another artist do when they draw so that was exciting

[lurking-loaf]

The board I drew on during this weekend's @daycarefriendpickup Magma had some frog themed art already in-progress, so I continued the trend with Sun holding a Froggy Chair.

Bonus rough sketch from Saturday (technically Sunday) when I stopped drawing for the night.

[house-of-slayterr]

Fated Meetings

Hannibal Series Pt.2, For @myers-meadow

Hannibal's POV:

The week was drawing to a close, another case that Detective Crawford dragged me into, had taken p far too much time. There wasn't any time to relax or decompress. And my patients hadn't been practically kind o em this week. One of them lunged at me in a state of psychosis. They'd even managed to rip my suit. It was s a shame to see them institutionalised after all my hard work, but it was for the best.

I sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Life had been dull recently, everything feeling too mundane for my liking. Perhaps I would try a new recipe soon. That would get my spirits up. I looked over the file in my hand, William's. Things had been going according to plan recently. The nightmares had been getting worse. He was teetering on the edge, and it did excite me. But it wasn't enough right now. I'd grow bored if he broke too quickly, he was different from all my other subjects. He was special.

My phone rang, bringing me back down to reality. Jack.

"This is Dr Lecter" I greeted.

"I've got something you might be interested in."

I sighed, the last case just ended a few hours ago. How was there possibly another murder already? At least this could be interesting.

"How so?"

"You go to the Aurora in your spare time, don't you?" Jack asked.

Where was he going with this?

"Yes, I do watch the there sometimes."

"There's been a brutal massacre, I think you're going to want to see it. Besides, one of the guards requested you join us on the case."

How odd, why would someone request me specifically? I suppose it was something to do. How bad could this massacre be, was it one killer?

"I can be there in half an hour."

"Good." Jack hung up.

Rude. I couldn't wait for the day I could get rid of him. I threw on my coat, tucking Will's file into the glove box of my car. I drove down the familiar path to my favourite theatre. The opera in town wasn't the best, but the performing arts crew was rather lovely to watch. The ballet n particular was my favourite. I remembered the last performance very well, playing it over and over again in my head. It was vivid, dark and delightedly morbid in taste.

The local college students performed a variation of The Red Shoe. Hans Christian Anderson was usually a good watch. The lead in particular caught my interest. Her leg's looked divine in the titular pointe shoes. They were strong and nimble, she was light on her feet the entire perfoamce It was memorising to watch her perform, the stage belonged to her, and only her when she was dancing. Nobody else mattered. I pondered how lovely her legs would taste, the muscle is toned to perfection, with limited fat deposits.

I saw Jack's car as I pulled up, the usual police lights and tape everywhere. William was standing by the door, not yet entering the scene of the crime. I exited my vehicle and made my way over to the two men.

"Thank you for coming." Jack greeted.

"Dr Lecter" Will greeted.

His greeting was always short and to the point, but never disrespectful.

"Beverly is already inside, she could fill you in. The guard that requested you is in the back rooms behind the stage, officers are still talking to him."

I nodded, excusing myself to go inside. Will followed after me.

"You're familiar with the building." He observed.

"Yes, I visit in my free time. I've been to the dressing rooms before."

I made my way to the stage first, greeting Beverly as she worked. It always surprised me how she could be so cheerful in the face of death. It was almost like the crime scenes never phased her.

"What do we have?" Will asked.

"It appears to be some sort of artistic expansionary take. Each ballerina was killed in a different way and displayed on the stage. The one at the centre had her eyes and heart removed post-mortum. There is a body part missing, perhaps trophies. No attempt to clean up the scene where each of them was killed, there was blood in nearly every room in the building, even outside. But there is something odd..."

Will raised a brow at her, I knew Beverly had a flare for the dramatics, she liked to have her moment. So I indulged her.

"And what would that be?"

"Not all the blood is human. The analysts tested some of it, pigs' blood. And lot's of it. They wanted this place to be messy, send a message."

Will gave a nod, excusing himself to look over the scene himself. It was always interesting t watch him try to get into the head of the killer, but I had prior reservations. I'd have to meet with the guard. I took a final glance at the stage, and I must admit, it looked like a work of art. Almost akin to something I would do. The bodies were strategically placed, and like Beverly said, the excessive amount of blood seemed to send some sort of message. I made my way back into the dressing rooms, meeting the guard.

"Hello, Damien."

"Dr Lecter, it's good to see you, wish it was on different terms."

I gave a sympathetic nod.

"Agent Crawford said your requested my presence?"

"Yes, one of the dancers was here, witnessed the killings. But we haven't been able to convince her to leave her dressing room and let the paramedics get a look at her. She won't talk to anyone else."

"Thank you," I said.

He understood my intentions and left the room. It would be easier to comfort the girl if other people weren't crowing her space. I lightly knocked on the door, I could hear her breath hitch as if she flinched.

"I'm Dr Lecter, a consultant with the FBI, is it alright if I open the door?"

I waited a few moments for a response before I heard the door click open, and a girl peeked her head out from behind the door. She quickly opened the door, before gesturing for me to enter, and closing it behind us.

"It isn't safe out there." She said, barely above a whisper.

"I assure you, the authorities aren't going to let anyone hurt you, Miss."

"You don't understand. It can't be helped. There are traps, everywhere. It isn't safe, I tried to tell them to leave, but they wouldn't listen."

"You believe the agents could be at risk?"

She nodded.

"They shouldn't move the bodies. They can't, I saw them rig something up, I don't know what it will do."

"You're bleeding, head injuries can be quite serious. If I bring the paramedics to you, will you allow them to help?"

"You don't believe me! They never do!" She said, aggravated.

"I'm not being dismissive of your fear, I will inform the other agents. But you won't make it out of here, if you continue bleeding, that could get infected. Your pupils are dilated, how hard did you hit your head?"

"I don't- I don't know. They came up behind me, everything was so blurry after that. I'm sure they thought I would die there, backstage. I don't remember much."

"We can talk when you're better. I won't let them interview you unless you're comfortable with it. You're in a lot of distress."

"But they need me to solve this. I'm sorry I can't remember much."

"It's alright, you've been through a lot. I'll be right back, just please, sit.

I pulled Beverly aside, after signalling to the paramedics that they could enter.

"The victim believes this place is rigged with some sort of trap. She says we shouldn't move the bodies."

"I noticed the strings were positioned in an odd fashion. Do you smell something off Dr Lecter?"

I had, it was one of the first things I noticed when I entered.

"Suppostium Nitrate," I said. "The killer has rigged the bodies with a homemade explosive."

Beverly pointed her pen at me.

"I'll tell jack, we should get everyone out of here to be safe. Let the bomb squad do their job."

I nodded, excusing myself. I followed Will out of the building and watched them wheel the victim to the ambulance. I gave her a small reassuring smile, before turning my attention back to Will.

"Anything familiar about the crime scene?" I backed.

"A copycat of some sort, but they aren't following the mould. Why attack an innocent group of college students? Men and women, both."

Suddenly there was a gasp in the crowd, and everyone's attention is drawn to the roof. I turned to see what all the fuss was about when I saw her. The dancer in the red shoes. She was on the roof of the building, teetering on the edge. Will furrowed his brow at the scene.

"Is she... dancing?" He asked.

And she was. On the ledge of the roof, she was performing a ballet, as if nobody was watching. Perhaps she thought nobody was. I could see the blood glistening on her skin from where I stood. It was unclear if any of it was her own. She was dancing to some nonexistent music in her head. But I knew the choreography, she was performing Swan Lake.

"Somebody get her down from there!" I heard Jack order.

It was such an odd thing to witness, it was clear she was aware of the brutal murders, and the corpses of her colleagues just below her. But she didn't seem to care. People did odd things when in distress. I sprung into action, knowing the best way to get her down, would be to talk her down. The Fire department was on its way. I noticed someone in the crowd, I'd seen her before, at the same performances I'd gone to many times. I watched as she slipped past the tape, into the building.

I quickly followed after her, not wanting to draw any attention to her odd behaviour. She made her way up to the roof. I stopped her at the edge of the stairs, grabbing her wrist. She didn't seem startled in the slightest.

"You aren't supposed to be in here."

"A friend of mine is up on that roof, there are only two ways for them to come down, I want to make sure it's the right one."

"You know them? Perhaps you could be of use then."

"That was the plan before you stopped me. I need to talk to them, they aren't acting... right. I got a call from them nearly an hour ago, they sounded distressed. Said something about the White Rabbit, and the Red Queen."

Alice in Wonderland, how odd.

"Then they've spoken to our killer." I deciphered.

"We don't have time for this. You and I both know how this performance ends, there's only so much roof before they run out of space."

I could hear the sirens louder now, as we burst through onto the roof. More people had gathered below, watching everything unfold. I could see Will looking increasingly worried, something that was unlike him. He usually held indifference in these situations.

"Frances!" She spoke.

Her voice sounded much softer now, almost angelic. It would be quite nice to get lost in. if it had been in any other context.

"What are you doing?"

But they didn't answer, they just continued dancing as if we weren't there. I could hear them humming the song clearly now, it was amazing how they could sound so light, and effortless while performing such an intense piece. Perhaps a psychotic break. Many people have been known to absentmindedly go about their day in times of intense stress as if nothing was wrong. I could see it more clearly now, despite some of the blood being dry, a lot of it was fresh. They were bleeding but from where?

The girl from before took a step forward, but the ballerina just took a step back continuing the dance as if they weren't just interrupted. I watched as they finally looked up, but their eyes met mine, instead of their friends. I couldn't quite decipher the look, a bit of fear perhaps, but there was something darker. They glanced back at the building across, before continuing on. Somebody was watching them, and they wanted me to know.

I turned my attention to her friend, whispering in her ear.

"The killer is watching, this is all a part of the plan. We shouldn't interfere, we aren't holding the cards."

"I'm not letting them get hurt."

"I won't either, but we need more information."

"Meadow." She said.

"Excuse me?"

"My name, Dr Lecter, it's Meadow. I've already got yours. Look at their neck."

She pointed out. So I did so, something about her commanding words made it hard to not act without thinking. I would do almost anything she asked if she said it like that. But as I got a closer look, there was in fact a device around her neck, disguised as a simple necklace, but I'm sure it had more sinister intentions.

“What do they want from you?” I asked. It was worth a shot to ask.

“A performance… put on a show…” they said, like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world.

I could hear a little humour in their voice. It held no fear, like they didn’t mind the situation they were out in.

“And how does it end?” Meadow asked, wearily.

“You should know my dear, the crescendo is the best part.” They smiled.

It was weird to see someone so small, someone the world would jump at the chance to hold down, acting so big. Like their life wasn’t on the line right now, like this was their average performance, and they weren’t literally hanging off the edge.

“And the Red Queen?”

This caused them to halt their dance staring at me with wide eyes. Their face scrunched together for a moment, twisted in pain. The light on their collar lit up, a shock collar perhaps. A small trickle of blood snakes down their neck. Maybe a bladed device?? But who had the remote, how could they hear our conversation.

Jack signalled at me, that he was going to send the fire brigade up, but I held out my hand to stop him. That would most likely result in getting them killed, and my day just got interesting.

“Alice has yet to meet the Red Queen, perhaps you could see the Cheshire ça-“

Their voice was cut off by a strangled cry. The stumbled back slightly, almost falling off the ledge. I took a step forward, reaching out my hand to stabilise them, and Meadow looked panicked. They met my eyes when they opened theirs, and it was almost as if they read my mind, answering the next question.

“Mask.”

They removed their hand from mine.

“What’s the game?” Meadow asked, stepping forward herself.

“Ambulance. Or Agent, or the distraction. Only one.”

They began to pace on the ledge, doing simple turns they were confident in. Who ever was watching needed them to remain up here, distracting the rest of us. I locked eyes with will once more, he seemed to be putting the pieces together despite not having access to our conversation. It was weird for the killer to have left a witness, let alone two. And to rig the bodies, wasn’t something you saw often. They had a grander plan to keep killing. Not quite a serial killer yet, but trying to make a name for themselves. It was pathetic.

“What does the White Queen say?” They asked their own question.

It was a strange one. We’re they talking to us, or the killer.

“I don’t understand.”

“The Red Queen believes their at war with the White Queen… tell me Meadow, how do you want your soldiers? The pawns are in place, will you call upon them, the knights, or your rook?”

She was involved in this, or at least the killer thought she was. There must have been a reason he chose this theatre, these people. Perhaps she didn’t know it, but Meadow must have met them before. Mean something to them in this play. This dance.

“The Rook is more valuable.” She started simply.

Another pause, the killer was certainly listening to our conversation. Punishing them for every wrong decision made by the other players.

“Then you’ve made your decision…”

“Where do we find the Cheshire cat?”

A laugh, light and airy, with a air of Condescension.

“The cat finds you, my queen.” They bowed, wavering slightly. “It seems my job here is done.”

Before I had time to fully comprehend their words, they ripped into their neck, tearing away at the device around it. I was right, their were blades. It stated to beep the second it was ripped from their skin, the held out their arms, falling backward on the building like a graceful swan. Meadow ran to the ledge, shaking in fear. But they seemed to have everything calculated out, they landed safely in the net the firefighters had set up. They sent us a quick wink before finally passing out from blood loss.

A moments later, I felt the building shake, I grabbed Meadow, pulling her away from the ledge to safety. From where we stood we could see the victim in the ambulance, she had begun panicking, trying to get away from the paramedics. In a matter of seconds, he head was reduced to noting, exploding into a mess of viscera and brain matter. Which meant one thing, Alice, “The Rook”… Frances wouldn’t succumb to their injuries. It was not the killers design.

And so the dominos fell, the cards all falling into place. Jack Crawford was going to be a pain in the ass about this. Meadow was fairly innocent in this whole deal, I was certain of it. Somebody who looked like her, had no place in crimes like these. She was an unhealthy obsession, wrapped up in something she was never meant to see. And Frances, Jack would surly condemn them. They were still an accomplice in these deaths, coerced or brainwashed as they may be. That had to be it, people like them didn’t just succumb to the darkness that easily. They’re were too light, too pure. I’d watched them perform for months. When it came to the stage, they were a perfectionist. Nothing happened that they didn’t allow to happen.

But they claim to not know the killer. Yet we’re so still easily manipulated into helping deliver their message. Somebody like that could be useful to me. So easily fooled, dumb enough to trust the words of a killer, claiming to spare their life for another. And all at the word of someone who claims to be their friend, but they don’t interact as such. Their speech is forced, awkward, like when will attempts to socialise at one of the BAU parties. How these two very different individuals came to be of acquaintance was beyond me. But I wanted to get to know, I need to know.

The White Queen, and poor little Alice. To find the Cat, Capture the Red Queen and Slay the Jabberwocky. That was the objective. A puzzle worthy of my intellect, I might actually have fun with this one.

Meadow’s POV:

Dr Lecter held me close to him still, the explosion had calmed, not being strong enough to bring the building to rebel. I must say, I didn’t mind being in his strong arms. But now wasn’t the time for thoughts like that. When did I become a part of this? Because I began to care for them? Or was it me who dragged them into this? Whoever was sadistic enough to make me choose, knew what my answer would be. They’d blame me for these deaths in their sick mind, but the choice was never really real. If I’d chosen to kill their “Alice” I’d become the villain. And that’s not very selfless queen of me.

“The cat.” I mumbled under my breath.

It seemed to have gotten the doctors attention, knocking him out of his own day dream.

“My apologises.” He said, realising our compromising position and letting me go.

My body ached at the sudden lack of his warmth. It was oddly comforting in a moment like this.

“I have to go, they’ll be taking Frances to the hospital soon. Will you tell them about what you heard?” I asked.

He seemed to think it over for a second.

“I’m afraid I have to. But I’ll be sure to put my word in, you knew nothing about what was going to happen here tonight. That is my professional analysis.”

"This isn't my fault." I was quick to explain.

"The ambulance will be leaving soon."

I looked up at him, searching for any signs that I shouldn't trust him. I mean he was a doctor, a psychiatrist, he couldn't be all that bad. Besides, any man who still had an appreciation for the inner things in life was a good man in my book. The way he dressed, his love for the opera and classic performing arts, and the way he talked. Everything about him screamed gentlemen. But I wasn't naive, there was something lurking under the surface, and I was desperate to rip it from him. But now wasn't the time to test the dear Doctor, not when Frances needed me.

We'd only met a few months ago when I had a backstage pass to one of their performances. We talked nearly the whole time they took off their makeup and redid their hair to look like a normal civilian again. They were so adorable with their rambling, talking about every performance they loved, or ever dreamed of being in. I was surprised to discover they had a love for musical theatre as well. They even invited me out to coffee the next morning, writing the number in red lipstick on my arm. I must admit, the gesture made me blush a little. It was like something out of one of those shitty teen films.

But that's just what they reminded me of. They had the personality of a rowdy teenage boy whose never been told no but somehow wrapped behind the facade of a gentle and curious bookworm with a passion for science. It was an interesting combo to say the least. And vastly different from their onstage person. Up there it was like they were in another world, and nothing and no one could bring them back down to earth. I was positive that theatre would catch fire, and they wouldn't even notice. Which I suppose tonight proved that theory, they were reckless. Something I'd surely have to remedy before it actually gets them killed.

I rushed my way down the flights of stairs, practically hurling myself over the balcony. It was fine, I knew how to land something like that. My past of running away from the cops as a teen came in handy every once in a while. It was important to be quick on your feet and never hesitate. The second you pull make, someone gets hurt. I made it out to the ambulance before they shut the doors.

"You can't be in here Ma'am"

I was growing tired of hearing those words today.

"I'm her sister." I lied.

Families didn't always look alike, and if they tried to disprove me based on race alone, I could always pull the race card. Something Frances would have done if they were conscious right now. They always thought it was hilarious. I hated misgendering them, even if they weren't awake to hear it. Though I suppose I technically wasn't, they told me once, late at night, that they didn't mind any pronouns, they were all equally wrong.

The paramedic nodded at me and signalled for his partner to start driving. I gently grabbed their hand, something I would usually ask permission for if they were awake. But this was more for my sake than theirs right now. They hated unexpected touch, sad it made their sin crawl and their brain feel fuzzy. Not something I'm quite sure I understood, but something I would respect nonetheless. They seemed to know Dr Lecter, I thought back to the interaction, they weren't so quick to talk to strangers.

Perhaps they had crossed paths before, I mean he is always at their place of work. If they were Alice, and I was the White Queen, what was Dr Lecter? There had to be a reason it was him of all people up on that roof. He wasn't an authority figure, medical professionals didn't usually join in directly in situations like that. But it appeared he got special privileges, interesting. The Chesire Cat... I racked my brain for none I could think of when it hit me. A certain red-headed journalist. One who seemed to have nine lives. Freddie Lounds.

But something wasn't making sense. How could Frances be both Alice and a rook? Alice is the fated hero, not the distraction. Not someone meant to sacrifice themselves so someone else can take their place. That role was assigned to The White Rabbit. A personality that didn't suit them. They weren't the primary distraction for the police tonight so then who were they distracting them from? I chuckled slightly under my breath, look at me, being a detective. I was just a librarian, with a background in the medical field, before I dropped out of college and moved here. Who was I to be playing Sherlock Holmes? Perhaps that role should be left to Dr Lecter and his merry band of FBI agents.

My efforts were best spent here. I would figure out how to make this sick bastard pay later, this entire situation was humiliating. How could someone I've never even met, be this obsessed with me? I thought I did a decent enough job at scaring away most people, keeping them at an arm's length. I rubbed my thumb back and forth on Frances's hand, as a sort of stim. It helped reel in my racing thoughts. As we got closer to the hospital, a beeping sound caught my attention.

"What's happening?" I asked.

The paramedic gently moved me out of the way.

"She's flatlining, she's lost too much blood."

They weren't allowed to die, not now. I'm not even sure what this psychopath would do if he lost his primary protagonist. Casting peo[le as if they were roles in this sick play of theirs. I watched as he attempted to start CPR, but it didn't seem to be working. Their lips were darkening, a telltale sign of lack of oxygen, something people often missed in people with darker skin tones. Something was blocking off oxygen to their brain. He reached for the paddles, but I stuck out my hand to stop him. I vaguely remembered them mentioning they had a heart condition, shock paddles might revive them, but it would just do more damage.

"Hang on. get me an empty needle." I instructed.

He looked at me confused for a second but did as I asked when I didn't budge. I laid my head against their chest, trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary. Their heart was still technically beating, but it was so faint, it was almost nonexistent. Then I heard it, the tone difference in where their heart attempted to pump blood. An arterial air embolism. The paramedic handed me the capped needle and ripped it off with my teeth, tearing open their shirt further, I felt around for a moment before plunging the needle into their chest, I drew back the syringe until the back came off with a pop.

I heard them take a deep breath, and saw their chests rise and fall again. The monitor stopped beeping.

"How did you know how to do that?" The paramedic asked, bewildered.

"I told you, she's my sister." I lied smoothly. "I know her medical conditions, which you didn't even check to see if you could get by the way. You could have killed her."

Perhaps it was harsh, but I was being honest. I'd have to get them to carry around something that listed all their conditions for emergencies like this. At least the guy looked guilty. Frances didn't have anyone, they lived alone, with no friends, just their job and school. They had no one to look after them, other than me. Nor a responsibility I ever sought out, but it wasn't a development I was terribly disappointed in. They deserved someone to show their kindness and care when it seemed like they wouldn't even afford that effort to themselves. They truly thought I was going to pick one of those other people over them, that I was just going to let them die like they didn't matter. For what, the greater good? Screw the greater good!

I mentally prepared myself for all the questions and investigations that were sure to follow. I'd either be seen as a suspect or put into witness protection. I didn't really like the idea of either. Of course, I'd have to defend Frances from the vultures when they woke. Agents would surely assume they were an accomplice, they didn't see the torture device strapped to their neck. And people like Freddie would want to hear the story. But I'd keep everyone away if I had to. It seems I'll be seeing a lot more of Dr Lecter from now on.

An: Lol, if Hannibal can hear someone use a different pronoun for a person once and change it, so can you. I thought it would be fun to write the backstory of how we all met. Gotta make it dramatic, is it really Hannibal if someone isn’t being outlandish with their murder plans?

[papercoffeandher]

Hi :)

How are you today?

Not perfect? That's ok! Me neither. :)

I read a quote a while ago on Pinterest and wrote it in my notebook to share with you today.

Might still print the actual image to put it in my room.

2 random but important topics to talk about:

1. A friend of mine never liked coffee, and drank some cold coffee to give me company in cafes, but that would be with a lot of sugar and chocolate chips and whatnot. He couldn't bear 2 sips of black coffee or cold brew.

He recently shifted somewhere for work and today he messaged me saying that he just drank one liter of black coffee and then had an energy drink to stay awake and energetic in the office because his head was hurting, because he couldn't sleep, and this was like before 10ish am in the morning. And for breakfast, he had a banana. He is feeling better. But. I don't feel good about it... I mean. When he told me he started drinking coffee, about 10 days back and drank a few cups and cans of black coffee now and then I was like ok yay we can kind of talk about coffee now. But then. Hmm. I am sharing my worry right now. I remember when another friend started taking 4 times the coffee she usually put in little water, to stay awake in the night and work, and it just got really bad because anxiety swept in soon enough. And I see my heartbeat getting faster and breathing getting tougher if I put more coffee powder or shots than usual in my drink... I don't want this to be his solution. It's easy. But it's addictive. Caffeine. And it can go down. Some people I know just chain coffee and smoke and it doesn't seem very healthy. It's really attractive, to be honest, I feel myself slipping into it sometimes too, but, must hold back.

Hm.

Interesting to look at coffee as a concern. Sucks actually.

2. On another topic. I met a new person. :) And she was so so sweet and beautiful and she's a freelance illustrator, artist, chuck the tags. But she has such good energy and I loved her doodles. She was kind and observant and patient and caring and acknowledging and a good listener and not loud. It was good. And she smiled. And other people there smiled and laughed too. It was beautiful. :) I went out after a long time. I am using the word 'was' because I met them yesterday. Anyway! My topic was: she was telling me how she has so many stickers but she doesn't use them because - then they'll finish and I think also where to use them.

I hear so many stationery lovers hoarding beautiful stickers and washi tapes and diaries and not being able to get themselves to use any. I don't face that problem a lot. I do plan and open things when they suit my needs but I don't have a problem opening and using them.

So I just thought I'd share a few tricks. Maybe they'll work for you.

With diaries, if I just can't get myself to write or draw (because what if it's not a 'perfect' work and the diary gets 'spoiled'), I just make a small scribble or a big scribble :P on the first page. It breaks the fear because the first page is already 'ruined' and the second one can't be 'worse'. You can also try leaving one or a few pages in the beginning or just using a random page. I do that too.

With stickers, the question is often where to use them and where will they look perfect and appropriate. So I just pick a few and paste them anywhere in any (mostly private) space. Like on anyone's door or switchboard or a remote, where it doesn't matter what you put and no one is greatly disturbed or offended and it's just aesthetic and fun. I giggle, laugh, and smile a lot doing that. It's like randomly throwing colors, here and there, which don't bother anyone and give me a small project of composition making. I think my approach is, to use the first things (pages of diaries or stickers) quickly and not as 'meaningfully' (like in this case: don't put the stickers on your personal devices like laptops or phones just yet) and you get calmer about the next steps.

This also reminds me, of sticky notes. To keep vandalism minimal, harmless, and little in size, I write funny or motivating one-liners and put them here and there in cafes and washrooms, or park benches. They stay temporarily so I don't think they bother a lot. That's also where my bill origami boats go. It's just fun. And non-pressurizing and just as easy to slip in.

Maybe give the first sheet of your new bundle of wow pages to someone else, and you can choose your favorite and start doing something.

Side note: My " I don't know if I'll be alive tomorrow." mindset kinda helps in this case, allowing me to make the best of today.

What will we do taking the stickers and the tapes to the grave?

Hope that didn't sound gruesome!

Ok, missing readers, bye. :)

Thanks for giving me space to express still! I wanted to use so many emoticons through the sentences but then thought they are after every 5 words so I'll just keep it to words (as much as possible).

Paper: Little journal.

Coffee: Cold coffee (Nescafe gold coffee powder)

[artstorieshusbandos]

Tale of Two Tragedies-Theo's route (Ikemen Vampire) **spoilers**

Tragedy #1 Exhibit A

I honestly half expected him to haul off and draw a masterpiece in the tavern notebook. Not because he's a Van Gogh but because there's almost no way someone with his appreciation for art , his eye for it and his hardcore determination wouldn't have managed to at least be drawing on the side for enjoyment.

This scene would have gone down a little differently if I had actually been in MC's place. MC, it seems, doesn't do art. I've been at least scribbling since I was a kid that figured out I could rub the paint off my toys onto the wall. I would not have noticed the notebook on the counter, but ever since we left the private gallery earlier I'd been dying to ask him if he'd ever done any art. I daydreamed about asking while I was waiting for my tickets to replenish Why?

This isn't the voice of someone who doesn't want to do art.

Usually when someone tells me they can't draw I find out one of 3 things. They either don't really want to draw or at least they have other things they'd much rather put their time into which is fair. They actually can draw but have fallen into the trap of undervaluing their own work which may or may not be a result of comparing their work to the work of others. Then there's the third crowd that has the desire to do it, puts in the time but can't get anywhere because they are trying to draw from their left brain.

What am I talking about? I'm sure you may have heard that our brains have two halves and that the left half is connected to logic, mathematics, language, symbolism, ect, and the right brain is associated with imagination, creativity, music, spatial relations, distances, ect. Most of us don't know how that actually relates to someone's ability to draw or paint. The truth is art is something all humans can do to some degree. How good you manage to get is one part the desire to do it, one part putting in the practice and one part how well you can get your left brain to give over control to the right brain.

Vincent and Theo are such wonderful examples of what I'm getting at here with the whole left brain/right brain thing. Vincent is right brain dominant and I know this not because he's a talented artist but because it's a fact that Vincent Van Gogh is left handed. Our dominant hands are opposite our dominant brains. Theo is clearly left brain dominant not only because we can see it in his organizational and business skills we can see how he's talking in the second image where he's trying to draw King. He's thinking about drawing fur and eyes and the components of the dog not the forms. The parts are all named and labeled....this is left brain thinking. Compare it to how he talks when he is observing paintings and pushing the technical aside to just let it speak to him. This is the mode he needs to be in to create but he's trying to attack it with his stronger mode which is his left brain mode. It doesn't matter how much you practice if you are practicing the wrong thing.

The other pitfall he's hit is comparing himself to Vincent. As an artist never ever ever ever compare yourself to anyone but the you from yesterday. There will always be someone "better" than you and "better" will always be subjective. Vincent got a head start being right brained. When his brain reaches for it's stronger side it's going to pull from the correct one automatically.

Maybe at this point you're wondering why I spent so much time analyzing a fictional character in this manner? Honestly it breaks my heart to see him like this and though I know he's fictional I also know there are many many Theo's in this world who have given up because they don't know what's holding them back or that it can be conquered. I wrote this for them.

If this is you and you'd like to see what you're truly capable of do this one really easy exercise. Find a picture of something you'd like to draw. Draw it as best you can. If all you can do is draw a stick then draw that stick. Then take that same image and flip it upside down and draw it again. The reason for doing this is to force the left brain to let the right brain work. The left brain doesn't like to work with anything it can't define and slap a label on. When you flip the image upside down it makes it so the left brain can't properly identify the subject. It has no choice but to shut up and let the right brain work. Compare your two drawings. I was astonished the first time I did this. I no longer have my original upright drawing from the first time I tried this technique but I do have the first drawing I ever did upside down. Here it is.

Granted I had been drawing for years upright already but if you need a point of reference as to where I was in my skill when I started training my left brain to sit down here's another drawing from the same year.

Quite a bit of technical difference.

If this exercise worked for you and you're interested in learning more about how to train your brain for better art this is the book that taught me.

I recommend this book to any artist that hasn't read it. It's been the biggest help I've ever gotten on my journey. I don't know if Amazon is the best place to get a copy or not I didn't price match I just put up the first link I came to so you might want to shop around.

Tragedy #2 Exhibit B

Here is one of the last pieces I completed.

It was done in 2012. That's right.....it's been damn near a decade since I've turned out a completed art piece. It would probably break Theo's heart even more to know that there are people out here like me that have talent and aren't using it while he would love to do it and can't seem to. In fact he'd probably dump my ass if we were actually dating before he found out. I felt guilty before but now it's guilt x 1000. Are any of you out there in the same boat as me? Anyone out there that managed to get out of the rut that might have some tips for me? Maybe I should take some requests? What would you all like to see me draw?

Also if you're interested in seeing more of my stuff my gallery is collecting dust here

Theo has everything he needs to be a great artist. He has the eye for aesthetics, he has the desire and commits himself to everything. In his time psychology is in it's infancy. He doesn't even know yet what he doesn't know. If I was wrong about this and he still couldn't draw after a few training sessions I guess I'd have to start making him paint by number kits. He can pick the subject and the colors I'll map out the design and we'll do it together.

[limitless-rose]

The Signs as things I wanted to be when I grow up

[This has literally been in my drafts since December because I wasn't sure if each option matched with the sign I chose but whatever (it's also a long post again, oof)

Also I didn't really post anything related to 2020 so... Happy New Year, let's hope something good will happen this decade!! 💖]

♈ Aries: Be part of the army. I was quite fascinated by the idea of guns and protecting the nation and actually getting my life together. I was actually thinking about it for quite a while until I realized that in order to get accepted (at least according to the Greek system) you need to have excellent grades (especially maths/physics), to be taller that 165cm and to be excellent in sports. Guess what, I don't understand physics/science/chemistry, I've been about 158cm for the past 3 years and the only two sports I'm good at are badminton and tennis (while you need to be good at running, swimming and things like that I guess 😕)

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♉ Taurus: A chef/baker. Cooking and baking always seemed pretty fun. I would always sit by my grandma whenever she cooked/baked goodies and observe the whole process. I also got inspired by the movies "The Princess and the Frog" and "Ratatouille" and thought that one day I could possibly come up with my own recipes and open my own restaurant. But while growing up I realized that I can't cook properly when I'm stressed/multi-tasking (I'm capable of burning the food AND the kitchen if I get slightly distracted, ooof)

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♊ Gemini: A TV presenter or a weather woman. My mom told me that from the age of three I would always pretend to talk to an audience and answer questions from the callers or announce news/talk about the weather. Maybe that explains why I talk to thin air (as if I was a YouTuber) about anything and everything when I'm alone. Though it sounds cool, I don't really think I could do it now because I have social anxiety.

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♋ Cancer: A writer. I really like writing, I don't know why. Authors have been inspiring me since my childhood, I remember I used to read so many books and try to write something of my own based on it. 😅 I like taking notes and then re-writing them more neatly. I like re-doing old homework in a different style and see if I have improved. I really like writing in a diary/a bullet journal too, I feel like it's much better than bothering others with my problems anyway. I also love coming up with random scenarios/stories/characters and writing about it but I don't know if I should share it. Idk, sometimes I feel like my writing is a bit boring or that it's nothing that impressive. So, honestly, if more people took writers seriously instead of thinking it's a hobby as it doesn't always pay well (when did the world even start revolving around money that much, oml) and if I was more confident about my work I'd definitely chose to become a writer/author (I'm still keeping it as a hobby no matter what I end up doing, lol).

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♌ Leo: A model. Omg, I honestly don't know why I even thought of it. Probably because I really liked watching ANTM when I was younger (and I specifically chose the American version because the one we have in my country makes me cringe a lot, just hearing girls from my school talking about it is painful). My friends also liked the outfits that I put together or how I would always pose for pictures (a few years ago, I'm too awkward now asdfghjkl). Looking at it now it's just so funny. There's literally so much competition in the name of beauty, the community can get kinda toxic sometimes and the standards are pretty high. Also I'm way too short and I still can't walk like a normal person when wearing high heels lol.

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♍ Virgo: A teacher. Specifically, a teacher for elementary or even kindergarten. Back then, the concept of teaching seemed pretty fun to me and I had lots of ideas about how to make class more interesting. The thing is that I have good chemistry with most kids and I actually kinda dislike teenagers because of how rebellious we can get when it comes to school (idk but like teens in my country are like pretty rude to everyone 😐). I'm not so sure about it now, though it's still an option.

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♎ Libra: A psychologist. I always liked helping others out and offering advice when they're having a tough time and I was also curious to see what makes each person feel angry, sad or stressed and the way they respond. It's also interesting because you can learn a lot about someone's personality, preferences and way of thinking or understand what caused someone to commit a crime. I still really like psychology and it's one of my main options for uni. The only problem is that psychology is pretty much overrated in my country so people say it's best to choose something else. 😒

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♏ Scorpio: A criminologist. And, surprisingly, I still want it. I was always intrigued by things that required research, was interesting in learning what caused a murder/crime to be committed and I would always watch crime thrillers with my dad. I also like it because it's a field of Sociology which is one of my favorite subjects. I'm just hoping finals aren't super difficult so I can get accepted in the college that I want on the first try lol.

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♐ Sagittarius: A flight attendant. Back then I found it kinda fun, as I was always curious about what going on a plane is like. It could also be because of their outfits (like the ones you see in movies or in Britney's MV for Toxic, idk why 😅). Plus I would get to travel around the world without paying as much as the passengers. But then, at the age of 14-15 I got on an airplane 4 times and I saw that it wasn't really like the movies and that literally everyone ignored the flight attendant so yeah, it's not an option anymore. ✈️

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♑ Capricorn: A fashion designer. So because I would always draw and constantly ask for new crayons/markers and other art supplies, my mom bought me a few coloring books that focused on fashion. It came along with stickers, stencils, ideas for Victorian dressses, advice for how to design lace or mermaid tail dresses and I was so impressed. A few years later, my grandma showed me a few dresses that she had made for my mom when she was younger (which were so gorgeous like I'm definitely going to wear one of them on my graduation day) and taught me sewing. I also got to see these small floral designs that you usually see on lingerie and it was so pretty, I wish I could do it as perfectly as her. I decided to follow my grandma's advice and keep it as a hobby instead (because she ended up doing nothing but designing clothes and repairing them which she regrets 🧵🧶).

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♒ Aquarius: An astronaut. This was pretty random, I have to admit. I guess I really liked space and looking at at the stars in the night sky. I read a few books about space and learned a few things about NASA back in elementary too, though I realized that it's something I could never really do, as you have to sacrifice a lot. I'm still fascinated by this profession but there's no way I could ever do it, since I can't even understand basic physics or mathematics. 🤷‍♀️

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♓ Pisces: An artist. Honestly I didn't really care if most artists didn't get recognition/fame or if they didn't earn enough money, I just wanted to make art because I liked it. It's also fun because while you are expressing your thoughts through an art piece, another person might interpret it differently, based on their likings and thoughts. Art also plays an active role in my life: I've been drawing and painting since I was 5 and I would always watch the show with Bob Ross on TV with my grandma. Instead of completely giving up on this idea, I thought that I could choose another profession (also my family didn't really like the thought of me doing art for a living 😐) and keep art as a hobby.