damn, i can’t believe i actually finished this drawing, the sketch is actually a month old, but my drawing program crashed on me so many freaking times, that i just kept putting it off. the only one who escaped the loss of progress and redrawing is diath (uncanny dodge??) everyone else had to be redrawn at least once.
Story behind your Nancy Drew URL: I draw Nancy Drew poorly. The url basically just explains the blog.
How were you introduced to the games: Actually, I was introduced to them twice. First time was when I was in elementary school and my mom got me SHA because I liked horses. I played it with my sister, but we got stuck and eventually abandoned the game and lost it. Then a few years later our older cousin gave us TRT and MHM and we really liked them.
Favorite Game(s): DAN, SHA, TRT, VEN. I think of these four as my “classics.”
Favorite food from the games: They have a lot of really good looking foods, so I’ll pretty much eat a ton of food in any game. But right now, I’m thinking of that chocolate cherry cake from CAP.
Favorite character from the games: The obvious one is Professor Hotchkiss. Also for some reason the first time we played DAN my sister and I were obsessed with Minnette, but I’m not anymore. Of the main characters, I really like Bess and Nancy.
Favorite fandom ships: I like Ned/Nancy, but only a moderate amount. I’m open to seeing Nancy with other people. (Unless it’s Frank. I don’t like Francy.)
Random facts about me: I run a blog where I draw things poorly, but I can also draw not poorly. I do improv. Another mystery series I like is Scooby-Doo. I have a cat. My favorite color is purple. I drew myself poorly for this because I don’t really like posting pictures of myself online.
Bonus question - How much do you love Bucket?: Bucket is useful throughout the games, but I’m not a huge fan of his personality.
The FULL GAMUT of images from my shoot for The Pitchfork Review of the captivating, exquisite, charming, Esperanza Spalding…
Our connection is symbiotic. She is a badass accomplished female artist musician in her own right, marching the flag for jazz, redefining it into her own sound with her latest album D+Evolution. Spalding is a prodigy; age 5 playing the violin for the Chamber Music Society of Oregon, winning 4 Grammies, and being the first jazz artist to be awarded for Best New Artist. She’s a force of nature; there is no doubt about it. On top of all of her prowess, she is a lovely kind human being. We had a GREAT time playing around in my studio, making dynamic energetic portraits for The Pitchfork Review.
Thank you to a awesome crew!! Stylist: Anna Su, Hair: Joseph Henry, Makeup: David Josie; Assistants: Vedant Gupta & Evan O’Brien!
You wake up to the smell of burning camphor. Your mother has a stainless steel plate in her hands. She moves it in circles around you and calls it a blessing. You can’t see the flame.
Your father tells you you can’t go to your friend’s house. You never asked if you could. He tells you no anyway.
You pick up the phone when it hasn’t rung. It’s your mother’s sister. She misses you. She asks if you have eaten. You tell her yes; you are always eating. You pass the phone to your mother. Your perriamma keeps talking in the gap between your hand and your mothers. She has no clue you’ve stopped listening.
Your mother decides to make chilli powder. She puts two hundred chillies in the same kadhai. Your eyes burn. You leave the kitchen and close the door behind you, but the smell is everywhere. You rub your eyes and it only gets worse. It always gets worse.
You go to a dinner party. An aunty asks if you speak Hindi. You say no. She calls you beta. You say no again. She asks you why you never learned it. You have no answer. She only speaks to you in Hindi. You keep saying no.
You try on a sari. It is too long. It is your mother’s. She is rolling it around you until you suffocate in the silk. You cannot breathe. She smiles. It is Kannada silk. She tells you you look beautiful. You believe her.
Your family tells you you look thin. You tell them you’ve gained ten pounds. They laugh. They tell you you look thin. Your athai tells you to eat more. She pinches your cheeks until there is nothing to pinch. Your cousin is two years old. He is screaming. You want to join him, but you cannot; there’s too much food in your mouth.
Your chithi buys you anklets for your birthday. They are silver and they jingle when you walk. You think they are beautiful until you put them on your feet; you cannot go anywhere anymore without her knowing. You get up in the middle of the night to pee and wake everyone up. You find a chain attached to one of them. You follow it and find it tied to your bedpost. You will be here forever.
A friend of your father’s visits your house. He brings you dark chocolate. You hate dark chocolate. He has known you for forever. Your mother glares at you. You have to be nice to him. He was there when you were born. He asks if you still scream loud enough to wake the dead. You smile and don’t say anything. You don’t say I wish. You break off a piece of the dark chocolate and it grows back. He smiles and waves on his way out. You close the door behind him but he stays on the front porch, waiting. Waiting. You have to be nice to him.
Your patti gives you a hug. There is turmeric in your eyes, in your nose, in your mouth. You gag on the smell and she smiles at you. She tells you if you’re not an engineer you won’t do anything good with your life. You smile back. You have to be nice; no one knows how long she has left. She says her back hurts. Everyone says her back hurts. Her back hurts. Your back is not allowed to hurt.