windchiming

oh ym god i want it to be warm and raining and a dark grey sky and the smell of wet earth and my bare feet on my deck at my old house and the sound of the rain hitting the windchimes i miss it so bad all of a sudden i love the winter but i want it to be spring 

instagram

Airport Poetry:
Like hiccups in time,
I am the spirit of the inbetween.
I uncoil your nervousness to reveal trust and truth,
Whispering alchemy through the void.
I speak in symbols and old tongues, in changes in perception.
I burn bright yet humbly like the east does at dawn
And the will of my bones dangling in the air like windchimes
Welcomes the ancestors each dusk when the stars open their eyes.
I am the rage of Woman
And the womb of the womb.
Feel my dampened fertile earth and know that the words you feed me echo on in my caverns.
The seed grows dreams here.
Your water pail can rain hope.
Do what you feel is right, or prepare for a long and fearful night—
Because I am the Creatress and the mother of all being…
I can bring the storm or I can bring the healing.
There are matches and a candle in the room.
What do you do?

6

A light through wind chime (Part1)

A short comic I did for my previous company’s artbook , “Little Giant - Crescent” . I was procrastinating until the last minute… it was rushed, so I’m not too happy with the colors, but who to blame but myself.

It’s a 12 pages comic, but tumblr only allow 10 images per post… so I need to split it into 2 different posts. Read part 2 here.

EE: if i’d known you were curious, i would’ve dug out the albums! john’s baby pictures are organized into several large volumes, which i store at an undisclosed location. he doesn’t seem to like it much when i take them out to show guests, but i’m sure he’s just embarrassed about what a well-behaved sweet potato he was as a baby.

EE: as it is, let’s see if i can pick out a good one from the collection i keep in my wallet…

EE: ah! this one is one of my favorites!

EE: the little scamp wobbled a bit out of frame at the last moment, but as you can see, he just loved playing with my hats.

EE: we really liked to play peekaboo, too. i’d put a hat on him and it’d flop right down, and it was lights out! where was daddy?

EE: and i would whip the hat off, and every time he just laughed and laughed, fit to burst!

EE: if i left the hat on too long, he’d flop over and go to sleep, just like a parakeet.

EE: i wonder if that still works…? 

EB: dad, please! oh my god! they do not need to see this! no! not the wallet pictures!

EE: john, your friends asked to see some baby pictures, how could i refuse? i was just telling them how we played peekaboo with my hats

EB: daaaaaaaad!! XO

EB: no more stories! just— no! 

GG: don’t worry john, i’ll go next!

GG: but, um, sorry, i don’t really have many baby pictures or stories or whatever. :(

GG: bec is pretty much the smartest dog, but i guess he didn’t really think to take any pictures? and grandpa was never really into photography….

GG: usually if he wanted to remember something, he’d stuff it and mount it on the wall……..

GG: i don’t remember much from being a baby, but i do remember that i spent most of my time with bec!!

GG: we’d explore all over the island together! which, in retrospect, was probably a reeeeeally dangerous thing to let a baby do, but i know i was always safest when i was with bec.

GG: hehe, he probably let me crawl around so much on purpose, so i’d go to sleep faster!

GG: maybe it’s dumb, since i can’t really remember it, but i think i was a happy baby!! 

BB: okay prepare yourselves for a baby blitzkrieg alright

BB: let me tell you baby dave wasnt some egbertian stroll through the park oh no this infant was the iron man competition in the middle of the carpathian mountains during a typhoon

BB: he had a personal vendetta against furniture and was determined to smash it into splinters using only the softest parts of his stupid fucking skull

BB: any consumption of food was preceded by a mandatory redecorating of the apartment in a fine layer of mashed veggie particulate matter

BB: even at a young age he showed massive talent for being a massive pain in my ass and getting away with it scott free because what was i gonna do he was just a wiggly throw pillow wearing a loaded diaper you cant fight back against that you just have to roll over like a bitch and hope they dont pop awake as soon as you fall asleep and wake the whole building with their otherworldly devilscreeches

BB: god when he was teething the thing he liked best was the neck of an ice cold beer to gum on

BB: hold on i have pics

BB: gonna send em in to corona and live off the royalties

TG: thats pretty much the best picture thats ever been taken of me

TG: shit look at the way the light plays on my fat rolls

TG: glorious

LL: I believe Rose is left?

LL: Well, in contrast, Rose was an extremely quiet and withdrawn baby. She rarely had any troubles that didn’t resolve themselves. She was well-behaved, dignified, and mature, even as an infant.

LL: And also extremely portly.

LL: I accurately documented most of Rose’s holidays as a baby. Halloween, I believe, was her favorite.

LL: I certainly enjoyed picking out her costumes. I think the most successful one was the year that she went as a genius female scientist with impeccable taste in fashion and avant garde house design. 

LL: You can see that, despite the layers fleece and the nice, soft, tailor-made cloth wig, she was in fact quite rotund.

LL: And although she has now bloomed into a slender and developing young woman, Rose will always be mummy’s little butterball. 

TT: Mother, what a heartwarming statement.

TT: Might I beg the favor of a copy of this tenderly preserved photograph, so that I may have it enlarged by several magnitudes and installed in a gilt frame?

LL: Of course, darling. Allow me to pay for it.