Hello my beloved internet loves! O how I have missed the giddy feeling of getting the most marvelous comments from the worlds most adorably brilliant people after posting a little something.

Glenn and the duck, the spool of thread, the five cents, and the vegan mosquitos (whom he failled to mention) were correct. I was kidnapped by avocado-flavoured ape men in large rubber pants. I'm sorry. It won't (but probably will) happen again.

And now, you're doubtlessly wondering, what has this silly little broad been painting lately?

And my answer would be: two self portraits!

They're nearly done. Let's have a gander at them in progress. I find unfinished paintings terribly embarassing, but I love looking at other people's works in progress so much that I suppose I ought to share my own. Enjoy! I nearly wrote ejoy. Have some e-joy!


Alright. So I look scary. That's step one in Self Portait making. Make yourself as creepy as possible.


Then you want to make your skin all blotchy and patchy and weird.


Then, when everyone suspects that the painting could not possibly ever pass for decent, pull awesomeness out of your ass:


The above is a bit of a bad photo, and it's still not completely done. But O does it excite me! Now let's look at birds! Once again, splotchy, disproportionate and scary first:


Then, suddenly, without any warning, awesomeness!


And finally, almost done, with just a bit of details in the birds and hairs to go:


Oh they're looking so lovely! I have never attemtped a realistic-ish self portrait before. Actually, I've never attempted a realistic portrait at all. Ever. Except for one of my dear friend Lana, but it's still highly stylized and from a very obscure and forgiving angle. Anyway, I must say, I'm really quite proud of how those are turning out.

Bananas

I sat down groggily on the train to school this morning, yawned, and looked up. Just as my eyes started to focus, a rather elderly Asian with a beautiful smile on her wrinkled face took the last bite of her banana. She then, without hesitation, threw the banana peel across the train to a gentleman sitting many seats away on the opposite side of the aisle. He caught the peel gracefully, set it in the crease of his newspaper, and turned the page, hiding the banana peel within.

They never made eye contact. They never spoke. I wanted so badly to ride the train past my station just to see if they'd get off together. My sense of responsibility won over my sense of adventure. I mustn't continue to let this happen.

Oh, and hello! It's been a long time! Have I told you lately that I love you?