naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
So I'm teaching The Actual Bear* how to paint custom ponies.  She's wanted to do this for a while, and I randomly woke up the other day with hissing, possum-faced glee at the idea of teaching her, so . . . we started tonight, and it's going well.

I'm doing two at once, alternating when things have to dry, and to keep me busy so I don't micromanage her into the ground.  Because I could.  I SO COULD.

So, Winterstar and Snowdrift are being born, both pink and both obviously winter-themed.  The Bear is doing a storm pony tentatively called Stormrunner.  That's badass.

I don't know how long it will take her to finish, but my two should be done in a week or so.  Expect pictures and a couple of auctions.

I'm taking progress shots for the Patreon thing I still haven't set up because I'm dithering myself into ever-tightening anxiety circles over wording.  But material is being accumulated for when I'm posting.

It's nice to paint.  It's nice to have company.  It's nice to sit and talk about imaginary boys and occasionally make gross badger sounds of glee at how ridiculawful we make their lives.  "Let's throw Jacks into the river in the middle of winter!"  "How can we make Solomon break down crying?  Because I want that.  Hey, isn't it about time he got an awesome scar?  Can we do these things together?"  "Let's get the redhead almost mauled by a werewolf, and then the other werewolf can come save him and they can FIGHT and later kiss maybe."  It's so stupid, like the worst soap opera Laurell K. Hamilton bullshit you can possibly imagine and I love it.  And now ponies.

I'm still ridiculously worried about things, especially what the hell I'm going to do for gifts for everyone when I just . . . well, I'm doing ponies, so now I have guilt about not being able to get my shit together to do other things.

I literally cannot win with this . . . whatever it is.  That causes me to feel like no matter what I'm doing it's the wrong thing.  I don't know if it's part of the whole being mentally ill deal, or if it's something to do with my messed-up upbringing.  Whatever it is, I try not to let it throw me too much.  But it bugs me.

Anyway, the whole teaching how to pony thing made me clear off my work table -- I could fudge if it was just me, cram everything off to the side, but there wasn't room for two people, let alone two very broad people like me and The Bear.  So I have a cleaner workspace.  Things are still messy and chaotic, but they're better than they were.  I'm getting it taken care of slowly.

I figure after the last month of depressing entries, I owe you some happy stuff, so there it is.  Things suck and are crazy, but there's things about Right Now that aren't bad at all, and I am happy for at least two hours every day because Bear.

Thank you all for bearing with me.  (Oh god I'm so sorry.)  I'm never going to give up, even though I really want to sometimes.  Even though I want to really badly sometimes.  There is too much good stuff here.  There is too much adventure to be had.  There are too many nice things I am going to have the chance to do for people.

Also there's ponies.  Who's gonna paint all these fucking ponies?  Me.  That's who.  And The Bear.

* The Actual Bear is a much better name for her than "my girlfriend."  It at least gives you some idea of what she is like.  She is like an actual bear.  Like that whole stereotype of bear-like dudes?  She is the chick version of that, and it's pretty great.


naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)

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