Snowed in
Hibernation isn’t quite over yet.
Hibernation isn’t quite over yet.
Otherwise known as “Return of the COVID Care Package,” of which I was the recipient. Boxed mac and cheese, goldfish, and tissues make me feel loved.
Some of the latest art cards I’ve tossed through the USPS.
The nights and mornings have turned cooler, and I’ve been having thoughts of fall. I dragged Beau and Yasha (from Critical Role’s Mighty Nein campaign) into chunky sweaters for some cozy, homey vibes. No spoilers here; I don’t know if Exandria has invented chunky sweaters.
The players in the D&D game I’m running encountered a fire snake yesterday, so here’s one of those. I’m imagining illustrating a series of fantasy creatures as part of my Postal Art summer project. I’m not sure who will get this one yet.
Here we are on the third to last day of May, and I’ve just now done some mermaids. But hey, I did some mermaids! It’s the first time I’ve done “real” art in a while, so the mental hurdle was tough to get over, but I’m pretty happy with these ladies.
Watercolor practice. I always feel a little better when I come across one of these.
Skyrim again. Taking Lydia on a cross-country side quest camping trip. I get the feeling she’s wondering, “How did I get stuck with the biggest screw-off in the Empire?”
From the video game Skyrim, in an imagined scenario where my character invites Mjoll the Lioness to have a drink, and finds that Aerin is included.
I’m a little bit embarrassed about how much I’m into this game.
In recent years, I’ve taken to designing my own Christmas cards, usually simple and seasonal without words. This year’s may or may not be a Christmas scene; it might be the jackalope burrow’s chosen sentinel sitting solstice vigil over a candle to guard the hope of light through the longest night. But you can read it however it makes the most sense to you.
I sold a few of the extras through Instagram, which was a new experience. It’s interesting to think about someone buying an art print on a card with the purpose of sending it to someone who probably doesn’t know me, and won’t have an automatic smile because they recognize my work and have a history of shared experiences with me. Hopefully the jackalopes will make someone smile all on their own.