This is a remake of a comic strip I wrote and illustrated 10 years ago. I read it again a while ago and I thought that the story was still ok, but I HATED the art so much that I decided to revamp it. So here it is, I have to say that I haven’t had this much fun drawing and painting in a long time! Hope you like it!
My friend Laura asked me to make a Calvin and Hobbes poster for her boyfriend for Christmas. I love Calvin and Hobbes so much, so it was a lovely little project to end the year. and I hope Greg likes it.
I’ve been letting a lot of books pile up on my shelf recently. If I won’t be getting reviews out anytime soon, I thought I could at least show everyone the books I’m constantly “getting to!” Here goes!
The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson (halfway there, living on a prayer)
The Tragedy of Mariam: The Fair Queen of Jewry by Lady Elizabeth Cary
Today, for the very first time, I’m doing a book tag on my blog! Many thanks to BiblioNyan for tagging me. She’s very cool and kind and friendly and you should check her out.
I have to admit, I’m a poor Tolkien fan. I’ve only read The Hobbit and about two thirds of The Fellowship of the Ring, although I have seen all the movies in the trilogy & the first Hobbit movie. I’ll have to get on that…
There was a man so wise He jumped into A sandy place And burnt out both his eyes! And when he knew his eyes were gone, He offered no complaint. He summoned up a vision And made himself a saint.
There is no guilt or innocence in you. All of that is past. Guilt belabors the dead and I am not the Iron Hammer. You multitude of the dead are merely people who have done certain things, and the memory of those things illuminates my path.
You must remember that I have at my internal demand every expertise known to our history. This is the fund of energy I draw upon when I address the mentality of war. If you have not heard the moaning cries of the wounded and the dying, you do not know about war. I have heard those cries in such numbers that they haunt me. I have cried out myself in the aftermath of battle. I have suffered wounds in every epoch-wounds from fist and club and rock, from shell-studded limb and bronze sword, from the mace and the cannon, from arrows and lasguns and the silent smothering of atomic dust, from biological invasions which blacken the tongue and drown the lungs, from the swift gush of flame and the silent working of slow poisons… and more I will not recount! I have seen and felt them all. To those who dare ask why I behave as I do, I say: With my memories, I can do nothing else. I am not a coward. And once… I was human.
“Did you build high walls around you only to sit within them and indulge in self-pity?” The walls were built because great forces have been unleashed in my Empire.
In the olden times… each wind had its name. A six-klick wind was called a Pastaza, a twenty-klick wind was Cueshma, and a hundred-klick wind was Heinali – Heinali, the man-pusher. Then there was the wind of the demon in the open desert: Hulasikali Wala, the wind that eats flesh.
