Yesterday was really productive. I didn’t quite realize how productive until I was doing my standard lie-in-bed-and-wonder-why-I’m-not-sleeping thing and tallied up the day’s achievements–ran off prints, matted most of my original art, did new painting, sent out cover alterations to client, arranged to get other originals matted, ran errands, etc. For one day, s’not bad.
Today is looking like more of the same–still running off more prints, on the off chance that someone at Anthrocon will need a print of the Crested Snogwoggler or the Nallwug, (I swear to god, my print books are gonna weigh fifty pounds…) and this evening I oughta mat the rest of my stuff, which will involve measuring and cutting and beating my head against the table wondering why I went into art when being a medical test subject pays so well. (I loathe matting. I may start doing all my originals in pre-cut mat sizes just so I Never Have To Mat Again.)
Did a quick Susan Seddon Boulet inspired doodle last night. It’s shamefully Blatantly Spiritual. I feel more guilt for doing things that are meant to scream “Hi, I’m a Charismatic Mammal Totem!” than I do for erotica featuring gila monster women. This obviously says something about me. Of course, part of the guilt may be that these go really fast, and I suffer the guilt of “If it didn’t take me three days and nights, it obviously Sucks Donkeys,” often as I try to squelch it. I should probably do them more often just to work that out of my system or something.