My stylist is a mad scientist.

I sort of knew it all along, but today she was glaring at my hair and then she got that look in her eye…you know the look, the one that generally goes along with “They called me MAD at the academy, but I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!” and rising maniacal laughter.

The thing is, I trust her judgment–the two tone hair is awesome, I quite enjoy it, so when she gets these looks, I generally go along with it. It’s professional courtesy to another artist, if nothing else. So when she looked from my tattoo to my hair and back again, and said “How would you like hair to match that?” I shrugged and said “Let’s do it!”

So, she dyed the bulk of it violet-black–a shade darker than the usual, the black holds longer than the red will, but honestly, it’s not different enough for me to really notice in the mirror–and the part that’s usually a more intense auburn she glared at for awhile.

“When are your conventions?”

“End of the month.”

“Great. Come in…Tuesday…and I’ll bleach this bit, and THEN dye it. I’m thinking blood red.”*

“…mommy.”

So I suspect that come next week, my hair will be rather excitingly colored. Should be fun!

And if not, it always grows out. Usually faster than I want it to.

*Bleach is apparently an alarming prospect overtop of colored hair…particularly hair that has taken X number of colorings, and is in layers of coloredness. And straighteneredness. This makes application of bleach difficult if one doesn’t want the hair to melt or turn bright pink.

“Hypothetically, what would happen if I wanted to be a platinum blonde?”

“I’d cry for several hours before your appointment. No, scratch that. I’d get the clippers. We’ll shave your head, and dye what grows out.”

More saints…and a somewhat disturbing discussion…

Cannot STOP with the saints. I think the lapsed Catholic buried in the sub-basement of my soul has been sitting on these for awhile. I mentioned this to Kevin….

K: “Maybe it’s trying to tell you something.”

U: “Looking over the art, it seems to be telling me that I like penises.”

K: …..

U: “Seriously, dude. Three of the four have phallic symbols, and the one I’m working on right now has a really big fish, if you know what I mean…”

K: *snicker*

U: “Ursula Vernon — Really Obvious Personal Symbolism Since 1977.”

Carlota agreed with me that the meaning is obviously that I consider cock to be divine, and went so far as to offer to found a church with me.  (I warned her that the suggested name “Church of the Cock and Spork” would alienate the male parishioners, though…) My buddy Kathy, on t’other hand, thinks they’re foodie saints, an interpretation I can also see as pretty valid. I suppose it’s all what you’re into.

St. Snargus here DOES have a really big fish, but that’s as far as I go.

St. Snargus and the Trout

(And while capybaras always look disdainful, I feel weirdly guilty about how happy the martyred trout looks…)

More AC art…did this one last week…

The Fox and the Egg

The more I think about it, the more I wonder if the checkerboard robes are the costume of the occasionally referenced but poorly understood Monks of Perdition…and if so, how Quick the Donkey got involved with them.

Ahem. Um. Err. Which is to say “Of course I know how this all fits together perfectly, I have written a six hundred page desk-reference laying out the details, I am merely choosing not to reveal the details in order to appear mysterious and provide dramatic tension at some point in the future!”

(Whew. Dodged a bullet there, huh?)

Unnnggghhh…braaaaaains…

Okay, I never meme, but this was just so TOPICAL….and persistent…

Zombie Attack!
You are in a mall when the zombies attack. You have –

  1. one weapon.
  2. one song blasting on the speakers.
  3. one famous person to fight alongside you.

1. The previously discussed HK Scarab Launcher, which would fire a high-powered stream of voracious genetically modified* carrion beetles, wearing teeny little crash helmets with my corporate logo on them.

But if I am forced into the real world, I’ll take a katana. I mean, I don’t know how to use anything else, and chainsaws are HEAVY. (Hey, did they ever make lightsabers that can be used like a katana?)

2.  I believe Rob Zombie is the only possible choice here. Although if I’m making an epic last stand, zombie bites covering my forearms, attempting to take down as many of the foe as possible before I turn the scarabs on myself, I would like to request a little Tool.

3. My first thought here was the good Doctor, because he’s a pacifist, and would probably find a way out that involved as little zombie killing as possible, which is good, because I’m a wuss and while I might, with luck, dispatch one, maybe two zombies, I would then ideally like a few hours to sit down, catch my breath, freak out, and make an amusing blog entry about it.. (“Day #743: Still in the Tardis. Saved universe. Fought zombies. Listened to heroic speech. Microwave still busted.”) But y’know, the chicks with theDoctor for one-shot episodes tend not to fare all that well.

So I’m goin’ with Spock. (“SPOCK?!” you say, “Why Spock?” (If there is a merciful god, no member of my readership is going “Who’s Spock?”)) Easy! He’s a Vulcan, so he’s uber-strong, uber-smart, and having copper-based blood, may well be immune to zombiedom. He’s willing to kick ass, assuming it is logical to do so. He might possibly come with the mother of all air-strikes. I like pointed ears. He won’t freak out under pressure. Unlike Klingons, who admittedly kick a little more ass, he won’t forget that not getting bitten is kind of important and will tend to limit the heroic last stands, plus there’s a chance that, using only the tools available in the mall’s Radio Shack, he could construct some kind of Anti-Zombie Beam. Unlike Kirk, he won’t grab your ass during combat. Sure, there are better fighters and better mad scientists, but you rarely find so many useful talents in one place. (Magneto, maybe. Batman. Gandalf, sure, but that’s just getting silly.)

…and now that I’ve dated myself badly, I’m off to tell the kids to get off my lawn.

*Yes, yes, the genetic modification to cross them with piranha so they can eat zombie flesh at high speed may someday come back to haunt the good people of Red Wombat Guns & Ammo Development. How do you think we’re gettin’ a sequel to this flick, huh?

Man, it has been a productive weekend! Four paintings done, some prints run off, and barring horrific incident, I think I’m pretty well set for the AC art show. Imay still do some small pieces between now and then, but I think I’m good. 5 panels in the art show, and…I think…sixteen pieces? Something like that. Enough, anyway.

Having said that, something’ll probably happen to screw me, sending me into a frenzy of last minute art, but hey, you takes your chances.

I’ve really enjoyed doing art for the art show this year, which is unusual for me. I think maybe it’s because I sort of gave myself permission to revisit whatever themes I wanted, touchy-feely as that sounds. Maybe I should do that more often.

Or possibly I just started two weeks earlier than usual. I dunno.

Anyway, this was kind of a fun one, for a straightforward portrait (and it’s actually a revisitation, in sepia jackrabbit form, of an unused RPG illustration from a bizillion years ago…)

Steampunk Hare

Also sort of toying with the idea of a mini-print saint set…y’know, five saints for $15 or something. Not sure how well it would sell, but it might be worth it as an experiment…

My miniprint offering for HeroesCon…

Year of the Pear

The collectible miniprint version will only be available at the Con itself (and possibly briefly on e-bay afterwards as I attempt to ditch any remaining overstock *grin*) but I’ll sell the standard sizes of these in the usual fashion…eventually might have a fun set of quasi-posters.

Nap Theatre

At some point in my dream, I was on trial, or at a hearing, or something, and I was attempting to defend myself. “No,” I said, “no, that was long ago, when I was still teaching Train Woman to bend around mountains.”

…huh.

Sometimes I Worry Me

It just came to me, like a bolt from the blue.

The ultimate anti-zombie device is not a chainsaw (rather too heavy) or a flamethrower (cool, but indiscriminate) or even a trusty katana (although being the only weapon I am actually vaguely trained to use in any way/have in the house, it’s what I’d use) but a maggot-thrower.

If maggots only eat dead flesh, they are the ultimate anti-zombie device. You don’t have to worry about innocent living humans getting caught in it–sure, they’d be a little squicked by the sudden rain of maggots from your Mk III High-Power Maggot-Cannon, but they’d recover.

If the maggot-thrower couldn’t hold sufficient ammo (we’d need to conduct studies on how many liters of maggots to zombie are required) we could always go back to the old-fashioned method–suspect vats of maggots from the ceiling of the mall, dump them upon the invaders. Again, safe for humans, but death to zombies!

Come to think of it, in many climates with an active fly population, wouldn’t they lay eggs in the zombies and eat them all eventually anyway? Ultimately a zombie apocalypse would have to be self-limiting due to all the scavengers–sure, they might fend off vultures and so forth, but the little wee buggers? Nahh. Sure, I’ll grant you that in cold climates, you can have your ice zombies, possibly your mummified desert zombies, maybe–at a stretch–your salt-preserved coastal zombies. (“….arrrrrr….braaaaains….”) but in most of the world, zombiekind could really only be a temporary plague.

Damnit.