Beware of the bear!

Okay, so I'm gonna try to find poplin, but if I can't, I'm just gonna try to find a cotton fabric that's as similar as possible. I'll have to go to the stores and just squeeze a bunch of fabrics. I'm pretty certain I'll know the fabric when I see it. IT'S KIND OF LIKE LOVE, FABRIC SHOPPING.

Mmm. And tomorrow I'll be drawing and hopefully later this week I can get to writing.
I have to study too, ugh. But I feel more productive lately? IDK. I gotta go clean the flat again on Wednesday but one day at a time, yeah? I'm just excited about the cosplay, as well as GoingG SLIGHTly MADDDDDDDDdd. But that's my brain for ya. Tomorrow I'll practice the voice, oohoh.

Okay, so the website has beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnn kind of a failure on my part. I got stuck, okay? But NOW I think I have a design in mind so bear with me (harhar). Not that I've been drawing much lately. Ugh. But I've done a few things.

Other than the fact that I NEED TO GET TO DRAWING ASAP, I also have 10000 stories to write and a cosplay to fix. I need to make a shopping list for that. Ahhh. The goal was to do one thing per week but you know me. Tho, since today is Sunday, what better day to do all the stuff I've been procrastinating? I think it's time I started being more productive. Tomorrow I think I might venture to the fabric store and all my days off will be spent cleaning, sigh. Physical labour.

Either case. I'm getting things done this time. I hope. Prayer circle I'm not a hopeless case.

okay so what I need to buy tomorrow:

1. more spray paint because I suck at painting

2. steel thread

3. papier maché BECAUSE IT DRIES IN THE OVEN LIKE WOAH

4. shoes

5. thread because you never know

what I need to do tomorrow:

1. shoe covers

2. sai to completion

3. style the wig

what I need to do on wednesday:

1. decor

2. wash my hotpants

3. pants for damian and shirt

4. clean

5. touch ups

6. panic

7. pack

what I need to pack:

1. cosplays

2. make up

3. regular clothing

4. charger

5. wallet

what I need to make sure:

1. cat is fed

2. technological shit shut off

3. bills are paid

dear god

They're not turning out like I want them too. Too messy and uuuuuugh IDK about the angles and shit but. I'll keep trying until I feel good about them. Sigh. I'm so out of it, lately.

Okay so. Soo. Nothing has been done. Because I am insanely unproductive. I blame it on May being a bad month because of reasons(?).

Anywho.

What got done in May:
- Kellie's birds

What needs to get done in June:
- Order wig
- Clean
- Sleep
- Work on cosplay

- Read
- Write the damn script
- Illustrate

- Front page

- STOP BEING SO FUCKING LAZY

Two of these things must be done each day. Okay, good. Seriously, shape up, Hanna. This is unacceptable.

He wanted to think it was because he loved her.

Why else would he go to such lengths? Such extremes? The things he had done for her, the lines he had crossed were such he had never thought himself capable of. Everything she asked he had done because he loved her and maybe, he supposed, so she could love him. Or just like, would be alright, too. He wasn't really that picky. Just being in her presence or thoughts, just a brief consideration that flickered through her mind every now and then, would satisfy him. He thought that once, a long time before her brown eyes and long, pointy fingers -- like claws on a ghost, a monster under his bed -- he had been someone else. Someone completely different from the man that was standing here with the axe in one hand and container of gasoline in the other.

He hoped he had been.

Not that it was important now or like he could even remember. It didn't matter. That was a time long dead and buried. Nothing before her mattered and so he did not waste much time thinking about it. It would only hurt, in the end.

''How much do you love me, Christopher?''

An ungodly amount. Enough to swing an axe to a man's head; enough to sever his limbs and put them into a plastic bag, enough to pour gasoline all over his house and light it on fire. Enough to burn his life, his home, every memory, to the ground. The man in the house seemed a nostalgic one; photographs lined every wall and there were trinkets, rubbish, on every little crooked shelf. Things that seemed unimportant to him, to a stranger, but which appeared to hold some sort of sentimental value. Perhaps, he ponders, the stranger in the house is a hoarder. Was a hoarder. As all his life and the things that made him who he was burn into little sparks of embers, climb to the sky like drunken fireflies, all that is left behind as proof of him is ash. Not that it matters.

''How much do you love me?''

Too much.

Enough to lose sight of everything. Enough to forget himself, lose his person in the chaos of chemical reactions and physical responses. He never did believe in love, which is why she seems so insanely important now. Because she matters, because she matters so much that everything else ceases to. It must be love, anyway. No matter how hard he tries he can't bring to mind anyone else he'd do such incredible things for. Such awful, wretched things. Can't think of the last person he killed for. And it's kind of strange, because all his life every person he met told him that love was kind. That love was beautiful and right and pure and good. Nothing about this seems good, or pure or wonderful. It seems wrong. Tainted. This wasn't what he was promised by films and poems and songs, it wasn't like any of the love he saw in others or what they told him in their stories. It wasn't at all what he had seen in their eyes. It was something far darker and far stranger, and most certainly, this love was unkind.

But it is love. This he knows, surely. Perhaps more surely than anything else. He can't really be certain of anything anymore; even his own name seems unimportant. All that is important is her approval. Her praise and grace. All he asks for is that when her mouth calls his name it will not sound bitter or foul. She doesn't have to love him, though that would be nice; she just has to acknowledge that he exists, and be alright with this.

''How much do you love me, Christopher?''

All too much. And not nearly enough.

He wanted to think it was because he loved her.

Why else would he go to such lengths? Such extremes? The things he had done for her, the lines he had crossed were such he had never thought himself capable of. Everything she asked he had done because he loved her and maybe, he supposed, so she could love him. Or just like, would be alright, too. He wasn't really that picky. Just being in her presence or thoughts, just a brief consideration that flickered through her mind every now and then, would satisfy him. He thought that once, a long time before her brown eyes and long, pointy fingers -- like claws on a ghost, a monster under his bed -- he had been someone else. Someone completely different from the man that was standing here with the axe in one hand and container of gasoline in the other.

He hoped he had been.

Not that it was important now or like he could even remember. It didn't matter. That was a time long dead and buried. Nothing before her mattered and so he did not waste much time thinking about it. It would only hurt, in the end.

''How much do you love me, Christopher?''

An ungodly amount. Enough to swing an axe to a man's head; enough to sever his limbs and put them into a plastic bag, enough to pour gasoline all over his house and light it on fire. Enough to burn his life, his home, every memory, to the ground. The man in the house seemed a nostalgic one; photographs lined every wall and there were trinkets, rubbish, on every little crooked shelf. Things that seemed unimportant to him, to a stranger, but which appeared to hold some sort of sentimental value. Perhaps, he ponders, the stranger in the house is a hoarder. Was a hoarder. As all his life and the things that made him who he was burn into little sparks of embers, climb to the sky like drunken fireflies, all that is left behind as proof of him is ash. Not that it matters.

''How much do you love me?''

Too much.

Enough to lose sight of everything. Enough to forget himself, lose his person in the chaos of chemical reactions and physical responses. He never did believe in love, which is why she seems so insanely important now. Because she matters, because she matters so much that everything else ceases to. It must be love, anyway. No matter how hard he tries he can't bring to mind anyone else he'd do such incredible things for. Such awful, wretched things. Can't think of the last person he killed for. And it's kind of strange, because all his life every person he met told him that love was kind. That love was beautiful and right and pure and good. Nothing about this seems good, or pure or wonderful. It seems wrong. Tainted. This wasn't what he was promised by films and poems and songs, it wasn't like any of the love he saw in others or what they told him in their stories. It wasn't at all what he had seen in their eyes. It was something far darker and far stranger, and most certainly, this love was unkind.

But it is love. This he knows, surely. Perhaps more surely than anything else. He can't really be certain of anything anymore; even his own name seems unimportant. All that is important is her approval. Her praise and grace. All he asks for is that when her mouth calls his name it will not sound bitter or foul. She doesn't have to love him, though that would be nice; she just has to acknowledge that he exists, and be alright with this.

''How much do you love me, Christopher?''

All too much. And not nearly enough.

Finish Kellie's ornithological picture collection
Make front page image
Make a smooth outline for SW
Script writing
Draw it
Read
Write
Draw
Read
Write
Clean
I'm sure there's something more to do here
Keep it up
Oh, I remember now, you're supposed to do that blog thing, remember that
Okay, but I'm still sure there was something more
jfc, there's always something more. What do you want me to do?
Idk, remember it, maybe? Just a suggestion
Hey!
Draw
Write
Read
Own it
Live it
Love it
EYES ON THE PRIZE, BABY

*proceeds to refresh tumblr*

I've been extremely unproductive lately, but that's mostly because I've been completely uninspired to do anything. Gonna get myself together and do the images I promised Kellie. Basically everything that's not refreshing tumblr has been a struggle, lately. I hate having artist's block.

Also, you guys know that feeling when you've worked on something for an insane amount of time and think you have everything planned out, then all of a sudden you realize you should take it in a completely different direction? I think it's kinda good that I came to this realization, though, because it solves a lot of problems that made me feel like the thing just didn't work out. Ah. To the chopping block, I s'pose.

WHY IS NOTHING GETTING DONE

made some major dialogue changes. but hey. pat on the back for me!

So here's what I've been doing lately. I really need to get something done for the website design but Kellie sent me some PDFs on anatomy and I had too much fun.

Other than that I spent hours at the fabric store, yet did not find what I was looking for. But I got some black fabric so I'ma get to sewing... soon. I'm dividing my cosplays into steps to keep it easy to focus on.

I also decided to switch to making the webcomics all digitally, to save time. Need to think of a title for SW. Ah.
But tonight I'm gonna go out and creep on teenagers until they feel uncomfortable. One of the joys I've discovered about adulthood. Maybe later this week I'll tell you of the comic expo. (Or maybe I'll get some work done.)

Dare to dream!
All my love.

Lot going on, hence my lack of updates. Ya'd think that's when I'd update the most but I kinda got distracted. Working on a cosplay again, right now making a mask for it. Have to go buy some more white paint though, I dunno. We'll see. Papier Maché is not a kind mistress.

Other'n that I've been working on my project SW (character ^) and uuuh. Got 9 pages so far, so, yay, me! I like it, more than I like my other stuff, anyway. Working out some issues with the story, making reference sheets and thinking of making a cardboard miniature of some city areas. Ah. I feel good about it, though. Need a new name for it.

I started painting again. Water colours this time. Going better each painting. I really like the soft serenity of water colours. Subtle and kind of dreamy, in a way.

WIP, but I'm liking how it's turning out so far.

So, to be concise: I am working on one web comic, I have started painting, I am making a mask for my Cheshire cosplay and I'm going to Uppsala Comix convention on my birthday. I'm also discussing a redesign of the website with Kellie! So that's exciting. Stuff happening! Hope I can get some stuff done soon.

Excited to see my old comic book art teacher on Sunday. Bought some books on drawing and design. That's pretty much it. Time to apply for Uni very soon.

And my favourite comic book couple got engaged! Yaaaaaaaay! Celebratory doodle!

That's about it from Bear Fighter Land right now.

Have a great one, folks.

Project 2 uhm. A WIP.

SW part 1 started. Four pages drawn, a few more written. Uh.

Tired.
Behind on comics.

Writing.
Thinking up new design of website (and failing.) Shall discuss with Kellie later.

Uh.

Brain dead.
Fangirling.

That is that.

I'm lazy today. So here's another sneak peek. I was going to colour it but got tired. Got a few more pages done and wrote a little on the script. I was to update the website then realized that despite having done little else but draw, I still have no new material. Weird.

(No idk why I spelled metaphor with tow r:s)

This here is a little sneak peek of one of my own bearfighter projects, the one called SW, which I actually got to work on (finally). I have two modest pages so far but. I am writing a script aaaand... working on the secret projects (two of which are done). Waiting for my internet to get repaired.

I got a web hotel for my website, finally, and Kellie was gonna see if she could make it so that I can update it myself. This will be neat. I wasn't intending to draw yesterday so it just kind of happened. Uh. Otherwise I don't have much to tell you. I spend a lot of time reading comic books an drawing.
Considered buying some paint. To branch out, you know. But we'll see. So many mediums, so little time in a day.

new logo and obsessive compulsive fabric disorder

Ooooop

more cosplay madness

Working on some samples and such

I need to hide my internet dear lord

hanna writes a short story

To Do List

''Feeling uninspired, think I'll start a fire''

rip my hair i'm so tired of it

progress! finally.

I like potatoes

Kickin'

Project 1 done

Temporary internet connection

Getting stuff done