Holiday of convention convenience. Or on the arc of justice.

I hope Grandad gets the card.

Look at all those presents and pleasantries. I need family, actual family. Not a family that's found, or showing up, well. There's a book for that now, so many specificity I can get to.

Happy Holidays!

Fuzzy mirage of mental models/literacy/illiteracy

Happy Halloween! Here's a off-the-cuff essay by a philosophy student wanting literacy.

Yet I know I'll have to deal with mass communicating towards an illiterate audience outside.

What convinced me was Neil postman. Even with my Art Director brain that I have to learn at literacy, I haven't had to chance to read all the socialism books so that's why some of my feed are videos, so even if I'm not literate, I'm aware of the changing concepts closely rela

Otherwise, you get Vaush, missed that train, or Ed Zitron.

I call this new strain the prosumer leftism, which is absorbed within itself of its own social media bubble. Or wilfully misinformed leftism.

Yet with the right/left graph and the political compass, I'm going to have to do another post on that.

Into the new years : Summaries

Grandparent Passing

Purposeless

Trying to be an artist digitally and an entertainer is a matter that's hanging like the hat I'm still wearing. You go out of hackneyed rote machinations, only to the moments that you don't with new patterns of blender. That it's all that it's got, after all the technical bravery of trying to not.

For entertainment! Ha ha. Professional servitude for the masses, as I draw it, then it goes out and in again. Always a demand for service and product, stuck in the system.

Well, there is another shot though, another round. One that is made without making money which that metric and still putting off with humblebrags that I feel meh about. I zone out with the mediocre slop that lays towards the waste of my eyes, I suppose to this still a good opportunity to celebrate.

Don't want to think of the other metrics while I happen to self-express at this sliver of privilege that I have. I don't have to produce unremarkable, forgettable slop that will be swallowed by the algorithm.

Theo's Halloween

Locked with the puritan, the prurient

squeals within.

Unlock the accursed blood within.

The doctrine of the tainted that will cleanse with the ways.

Create paradoxes and write whatever you want, we don't care. Here's the response rates and bring us your fill, the inner slop that will satisfy us all.

ASCEND

Birthday sketch of socks, for the world. Small AI thoughts

 20 min doodle.

This may never get any eyes on it.

That's what a gift is, when ideas are plentiful within this internet net. Especially with one with the booper. Gearing more about derisive intelligence, AI futurists/technocrats and It's detractors. Collecting opinions within the critics too. I'm not sure if my own.

Glad Tim Grawl managed to admonish this by separating the commodity makes and the artists.

Thankfully I'm happy the physic return of my hobby is good enough, I'm not sure if I'd want to do more commercial work right now.

14 min

Ah, peace. ✌🛋

Vinces Early Birthday Sketch

 

This is life, even with a short movement of 30 minutes and the lasso tool, I still make a sketchy sketch.

Can't really work with the constraints too much.

That's how it is.

A memoir, in my taste, is not something empowering because it can be plain journaling.

Just like this. To dramatize a slice of life into a memoir is to betray it.

Birthday hoopla

Such a day that is taken for granted for specialness, it's another day though. Another day to work on something that matters, despite the opportunity that it may never work out. That's the fun with it.

Maybe I follow this work-fun paradox till I'm physically unable, peace and quiet though with a sanctuary, pacing myself, certainly a dream. Being my own boss, so I don't burn out.

It's important these days don't become self-important days.

What could be merrier?

six'n a half min video of what I follow.

"Thanks for the socks, it's what I always wanted."

Birthday hubub

As I write my cards and treat somebody special. I think of the service industry and how faceless that can be, with how people don't care for the face value of the service workers. Who have no birthday to them.

Turkish Delight and a golden card, things for having this solvency is important, things to help keep this hobby afloat. It's not about the money any more though, it's this sweet little love they give and how they give it.

He said thanks for the card and chocolates, she said thanks for the card even when I spoiled the illustration. That's all one can do. With that, love is all there. Familial feeling, that's fortunate. These kinds of dates don't last.

Thank you.

Happy Holidays!

Sketch without reference, it's almost dream-like and impressionistic. I certainly won't be treating these as portfolio pieces. That little dot at the end is supposes to be Krampus.

Going through a slow burn to remind myself and others that rekindling the drive, and quality of life, as everlasting.

Whatever religion, with or without, I wish the best.

Teriyaki had this blossom green tea, enjoyed the show and placebo.

Weighted blanked as a gift.

500 bloggies

Five hundred?!

Five hundred if keeping up a writing habit alive, with no social media metrics to fight for? That's the thing with blogging, write, edit it into something readable the out it goes.

Only managed to skip one thumbnail sketch, look at all those ideas on my own long tail of distribution. Fancy moments of time, recorded, and here it is. Victory lap time.

Thank you.

Edit, this is a repost just in case I missed it, I replaced my previous post with a character sketch of my Dannys swimming past.

Halloween sketch

I'll honour your will, llama ghost boyfriend.

The kids today won't be coming to my house, the celebration was the lantern parade, more of a folksy festival compared to the commercialized scares within the western world.

It's fine, the stores have their candy, and I've got my work hours for my creative calling and point of view, so it all evens out.

The spooky pumpkins are my favourite trope, so have at it.

Birthday!

Ping! What a wonder! Another point in the manufacturing date!

34.

I'll most likely have cake. Grey hair is coming in, yet another point date of being made. Or was I made?

A little story on how this all started.

The photograph that started the llama inspiration, it was an alpaca within a petting zoo.

This is what happened when I wanted to turn it into something better. So what originally was an alpaca. Became a llama, an active llama, a coach.

A coach since the coaching my body into shape was the thing I did, so that was a reflection of that.

Eventually the colour scene changed, and the anatomy to affected by my natural bodybuilding. This is the start.

Yeah, this happened. I was still cutting while I was doing this. So it was lanky as I was. Others had said it looked more camel than llama, so I took note.

It was at this time that I had started to blog as a matter of disciplinary practice to follow a schedule. The natural bodybuilding I had used to solve my back and calf problems was useful enough to show me the importance of showing up. Even if nobody else did. I kept at the gym as a matter of making a better version of myself, not to make a living or what an audience thinks. Thankfully I had room to experiment, so this time was fun as I did a stream of nothing but Ronnie Coleman going "Yeah Buddy" over and over again for the fun of it. That was my crowning achievement, to stick to a schedule no matter what.

Felt an "all is lost" moment when I had become a couch due to a spelling error within a twitch renaming box. Yet, I decided to turn lemons into couches and make an old green couch in my living room into something more sexualized.

It was not really fetishization at that point, yet a way to have fun to see if
I can get a positive response from the furry/oc group with this character.

It was an interesting problem, playing by the wind.

I'm still not swayed by the ab-tested algorithm of twitch if it's got no interest on supporting my endeavours as a mature entertainer and coach. If it wants to make me jump through these hoops, I know I don't have to since the gatekeepers are having less and less power over the internet. Artists can vote with their feet if the rules don't play into what they are trying to do. Not become a product.

My fursona went under revisions. So did my couchsona.

It's a reflection of schedule, most of everything.

New Years Opening

Quick Self-portrait for the day

A sweeter year, a year away from the burnout of this carousel of status roles. It still matters. Since June, it's been pretty productive.

Still, nobody has picked me, and my pursuit for affiliate, to start a humble business of odd emoticons that apparently twitch has made me feel that I want to belong. Yet here I am freelancing it all, All from the scraps of my solvency that push me to create the work, Since I'm nothing without it.

Christmas Time

The best parts are the roasts

An obligatory celebratory event.

Some leftover christmas cards, along with the new year. All wrapped up food made for the holiday.

Surely they'll be potatoes roasted in duck fat, veggies, and cuts of Turkey. Other than that, minimal presents.

Happy holidays!

Sketch of a broken dumbbell I did last year, of a similar occasion. It happens.

Happy Halloween

The spook of my fursona is coming back

 A time for cute monsters to feel normal, in a time of hot hallow distress.

Where drawing others as couches felt in theme, Celtic and irish. It all helps with the spooks

Huzzah!