Right, then.
Once upon a time, probably about six months ago, I said something along the lines of “I will never get a Livejournal, because I can’t possibly imagine that anyone cares enough about what I think to want to read it.”
There’s an old saying from one of those cultures beloved by New Age types (generally the ones with the best jewelry) that goes “Never say what river you won’t cross,” the premise presumably being that Fate keeps a special file on pronouncements like that, and enjoys crushing them underfoot, even if it has to reroute a whole Viking horde just to get you with your back to the aforementioned river. Fate is petty that way. So, having realized that I tend to rant a lot more than I can keep up with on my website, which means that more or less daily I open a Word file, bitch for a paragraph or two about some obscure facet of art or life or religion or why the hell the federal government can’t issue housekeepers to artists so that I don’t have to waste valuable painting time standing in line at the grocery store, then close it again, and furthermore, in my dark and mercenary little soul, realizing that exposure is the key to artistic success, I finally went and got a Livejournal.
Of regularity, frequency, and coherency, I promise nothing. But I hereby vow, before the Art-gods, (a nebulous bunch, but the only ones I particularly believe in, particularly Our Lady of Photoshop) that you will never have to read about my love life, conformity angst (unless it’s art-related, in which case all bets are off) how no one understands me, or how I really feel I have the soul of an Astral Wombat Shaman, since I can’t imagine anyone wants to hear about that sort of thing, and anyway, I wouldn’t know a wombat shaman if it bit me on the ear. I feel rather strongly that one’s flakier spiritual moments, like skin rashes and embarassing foot fungus, should be kept to oneself, and possible one’s spouse and/or physician.
I’m an artist. Many of my rants will probably be art related. I am, in all modesty, not half bad at it, either–I eke out a meagre living on it, anyway, and I enjoy it, which is the important thing. If you’d like to see the art behind (or in front, I dunno) of the fevered brain, there’s Metal & Magic which features more art than you can shake a stick at, plus my various stabs at comic amusement.
Also, just to clear up anything from people who might notice the occasional anthromorph in my art–I like animal people. They look neat. The sight of something that I usually surprise in the backyard, wearing armor and carrying a battle-axe the size of a Volkwagon, makes my day. However, I am not what you’d call a furry, I don’t identify with any particular animal (although I think anteaters are cute as all hell) and I most definitely do not get my kicks on rhino-on-ground-sloth hermaphrodite porn–but I don’t have a problem if somebody else wants to, provided they don’t ask me to draw it. Also, I draw nudes. If you have a problem with nudity, then feel free to dismiss me out’ve hand as a pervert, because I’m definitely gonna dismiss you out’ve hand as a Philistine, so it’s only fair.
Finally, allow me to extend my thanks to Ch’marr, who runs the VCL site and who is just an all-around cool guy for sending me a Livejournal code, and to Gryllus of Yerf fame, who also sent me one about thirty seconds later–you guys make me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Right, then. Peace!
