Writing is a bitch

I am on chapter 27 of 29 of my book. There will be one more rewrite after this, then copy editing changes. Goal is to have Chapter 29 done by June 2, (Thursday midnight). Then the serious rewrite by 9/30/11. Then have it out by 11/1/11 so I can start Nanowrimo on the next set of stories.

Wish me luck! So far, 80,000 words and counting.

Introducing Cholotto Arts!

Well, we went ahead and did it. We started an Etsy shop called Cholotto Arts. Our first items features crafts by our friend Heather McDonald and hand-drawn cards by none other but our own Bratworse - Westina Basilotto!

Every week, I'll put up a new card. This one is titled "Birthday Cupcake Card 1". If you like it, you can order it with the name you choose, lit up by candles.

Happy Halloween

Random Word Compilations

It's the land of a thousand eyes. Each one with it's own dream. Like the interrogation's bright light, they apply the pressure of sight. They have their secret code. The one they dangle just out of my understanding. Playing true to my curiosity, they tantalize me with what could be. I'm their puppet with no strings. Not merely a blind bird that never sings. 

Not for one, for there are two. The tights are torn. Lacie strands straining to get away. Knights run by too quickly. Their hold never firm. Leaves them slipping.

"I thought of you." said the monkey to the shoe as she rubbed a banana between her toes. Saying nothing, the shoe just stared. Oblivious or ignorant of what the monkey just reveled. Lost in fantasies of the great rocky mountain outdoors, littered with the sugary sweets of its favorite candies. The ones that are so good they're guarded by armies of bears. Having been ignored the Monkey juts its banana covered toe into the shoe's ear, "hey, did you hear my confession?" The shoe indeed had not. It was busy flirting with the bears trying to get a taste of that candy. It certainly had, however, felt the moist stringy gooeyness of the monkey's wiggling toe. Which having entered the dimension of touch, brought the shoe rushing back and away from the bear that was licking her ear. Quickly reactivating that part of the brain that had some inkling as to what was going on, the shoe covered, "The bananas not lasting that long?" At this the monkey laughed and began suckling her toe.

Poem - Lucid Simulated Dreams

There's magic, a fantasy painted true

With vibrant colors of a soft hue

Visually stimulating, even with quirks

My mind simulates fireworks 

I hide my eye so you can't see

The craving and illusion of what could be

Get your fingers wet in the paint of my mind

Leaving your fingers stained, a fading memory

Reminders, with temptations of something savory 

Away from you, I plot and scheme

When next, we will together dream?

Poem - Embarrassing

"Love moves me like a tornado.

Devastating my world without warning.

And there's never a thing I can do.

I'm head over heels, as the debris begins settling.

Love is so Embarrassing!!!

I'm this awkward and uncomfortable thing."

posted this May 06, 2008... 

(cream o' wheat's  birthday)

Poem - What the F' was I thinking?

Like a dream, my imagination builds a place for you.

Once let in, you take ahold and seldom leave.

You become an addiction.

A dopamine, receptors built to perfectly fit you.

I crave you.

Seeking you out, I quake with repressed excitement.

You are the secret thrill that fills in the holes of me.

Connecting with you, I breathe you in and am captivated.

With every moment, you finger a different part of me.

My skin crawls with life, tingling.

You heat the world around me, producing energy to tempt and tease me.

My mind is transfixed.

Coaxed by you.

Breaking the surface, erotic thoughts learn to swim.

Myth #2

How the Land, Air & Water Came About

Chapter 1

As Its first creation, the chicken flitted about Takla flapping and pecking, Takla the Goddha of Nothing, Something and Other, wondered if It should create Something more out of the Nothing that surrounded It and the chicken. But which Something should It create? Takla floated in the Nothingness consumed by this weighty question that seemed to beg a more dignified answer than what Its mind created for the first creature - the chicken.

Takla turned to the chicken and said, "For the honor and the punishment of being the first creature created, you will be a forever sought animal. Your males will be sought for the song they bring. Your flesh will appeal to all and your unborn's food will be made of a miracle slippery substance that all will want to consume as well."

Being pleased with Its pronouncement, Takla returned to Its ruminations and as the thoughts darted about from possibility to possibility, Nothing seemed to happen and Something took shape. The swirling emptiness tore into millions of little tiny pieces all about Takla and the chicken. Behind the millions of little bits of Nothing, Something else was happening. Larger pieces of Nothing were morphing into bigger pieces of Something. Some had gills, some had paws. Some had beaks, some fangs. Takla's imagination was having fun.

Even as Takla watched fascinated, the thoughts took on an Other life and took flight, taking their resemblance from the chicken but unlike the chicken was not an awkward flapping hopping creature but rather magnificent creatures that used their wings to swoop and soar and some creatures to flock together to create an Other illusion of being larger then they actually were.

Soon there was almost Something everywhere, and Takla frowned.

If Nothing disappeared, then wouldn't Its creatures be bored like It, for It has experienced unchange for eons?

Takla stopped the direction of Its earlier thoughts and tried to separate all the Somethings around but to no avail. What to do... what to do?

Chapter 2

Out of the Nothing that was between the Somethings, came something solid and something liquid and something gaseous.

Looking at the Something forming, Takla at once knew what to do. It commanded to the creatures that could flap its limbs, "Take to the Air but know that you need the Land to sleep on and the Water to be of sustenance."

Looking at the creatures who had gills and fins, Takla commanded them to "Take to the Water, but know that the Land is needed to contain the Water and the Air is needed however you may not realize you draw from it."

Speaking to the creatures who had neither wings nor fins, Takla commanded them to "Take to the Land, but know that the Air is needed for you to breathe and the Water is needed to sustain you."

Upon Its word... Nothing happened.

And Takla realized Its mistake. Nothing told the creatures what they were, so by calling them Something, they hadn't realized It was speaking to them.

Instead, Takla slashed through the Nothing towards the creatures that had wings and pointed to the Air.

It then slashed through the Nothing towards the creatures that had gills and pointed to the Water.

Lastly, It slashed through the Nothing towards the remaining creatures and pointed at the Land.

Of course, with such broad gestures, there would be a few overlaps, which is why there exists such things as squirrels that fly, frogs that glide, water snakes, birds that walk instead of fly. The creatures separated as gestured by Takla, onto and into the Land, Air and Water.

And Takla was pleased that he had managed to keep parts of Nothing still alive within the Somethings that now encompassed almost everything.

Explaining the Previous Post

I'm trying out a new story and it involves creating a whole new mythos. I've thrown together a few ideas and will be trying it out here so look for posts under The Myths. The first is a quick parable about how the Godda (that world's version of a God/Goddess) of Nothing, Something & Other creates a chicken out of nothing.

This will be the spark that ignites the other stories or in another metaphor, sets things in motion. I'm letting my muse run through me and I'm just letting her have fun. Bratworse is helping and creating with me, but I think the words will be mine. The ideas will be both, but the magic in delivery... that which I find so delicious. I get that. :)

Enjoy and let me know what you think. I'll be putting more up.

Oh, until I figure out how to put a sound file up, these will be quicktime audios without any picture. You guys don't need to see me blush.

Trying Out a New Story

Myth 1: The First Creation

In the beginning, there was Nothing and Takla felt empty. Would Nothing fill this emptiness, It thought for the first time as the emptiness finally threatened Its very sanity. A scary thought filled Its mind as It pondered for a fleeting second if sanity had already taken hold and all that was about to happen was a moot point. Takla shook the thought off as It pondered what its options were.

To continue with the vast emptiness was insanity for sure, but what is insanity to a Godda and should It fear insanity? As thoughts swirled around like... like...

A picture formed in Takla's thoughts.

These thoughts... they had a shape. And the shape... was a pecking motion as if something was propelling it forward insistently, looking for... sustenance.

AAs the motion formulated in Takla's thoughts, the vast emptiness stirred, and the vast emptiness too started swirling, swirling into a pecking motion following Takla's thoughts. And Takla was pleased - It had made the transformation into becoming An Other - the Goddha of Nothing, Something and Other.

Takla let the thoughts gather force and before long, the pecking motion was solidified into a beak, and that beak was followed by head, which just for fun had a wiggling and waving comb gracing down the back. The neck under the pecking head belonged to a round plump and feathery body, and again, just for Takla's own amusement, was supported on spindly legs that spread into four splayed toes.

And this answers the question, which came first: the chicken or the egg.

Prop. 8

I've been looking at Idealist ever since this proposition was called, asking her why?

Numb with shock at what happened. It's been hard for me to understand.

Months into our marriage certificate and we're reminded just how much a dream it is. I had a really difficult day, cliched bittersweet. Proposition eight passed, they interrupted my dream. I cried on the phone to Idealist, to Verve, to Vito, as they expressed love, embarrassment and support. Then alone, rubbing my eyes to make sure I was really seeing what I was seeing. They were there, willing to hold my hand, to let me know that even though I have to check 'other' in a lot of cases, it's okay.

I'm still loved, and I don't know about everyone else, but all I want is to spread happiness in a way that makes me happy to. I am so thankful and in love with the people that love and support me. They remind me when I most need reminding that I'm not alone, they're right there with me. Accepting and inspiring the way I dream.

Welcome to the Grand Illusion

See this freaky funky thing? Cool, eh? Bratworse did that... with a teeny tiny tad of art direction from yours truly. It's a picture of a neuron. The purple moving flashes are supposed to be thoughts.

If you want to see more, come visit her new site, WestinaMation where she shows off her recently acquired skills. See, she's about to graduate so she's got a website and demo reel put together.

Come check it out. She's done some really neat stuff there.

Oh, and if you're in the medical field or science/scientific field, please do check this out. Bratworse is hoping to do animations for labs and presentors and documentaries.

Can you tell I'm just a wee bit proud of her?

R.I.P. Rory Root

The following is what I wrote on one of his obits:

Alex Amado called me up last night with the sad news. Rory, there was so much to thank you for, I only hope the many times I walked into your store and walked out buying $200-300 worth of graphic novels helped. You were indeed a force of nature around for comics and you will be missed, even from ex-comics pros. Many were the days of tough, energy-sapping days at conventions, only to walk out for a cigarette and see you on the sidewalk with your mug of coffee and a grin on your face. My walk would speed up as you raised your hand in a gesture of greeting, even as you continued your conversations with three or four people standing around you. I knew around you, there were always interesting conversations AND somehow, by the end of my cigarette, I would feel revitalized and ready to face the masses again. Thank you, Rory.

A personal story. I had an alcoholic GF at the time but I wouldn't face it. She'd be at home drinking a 12 pack every day as I worked and finally I screamed at her to get a job. She didn't, and so I called up Rory to see if he had a job available. It turned out that he had a P/T book-keeping job so he gave it to my alcoholic gf. Within a month, she lost the job. Rory kept wanting to apologize for that, but I kept apologizing to him for inflicting him with my problem.

Rory, you were a great man. My ex-gf didn't deserve you as a boss. And it is because of you and your poker parties that I met Alex. I owe you so much, Rory.

Rest in peace because you, Rory Root, the man whose name Scooby Doo would have no problem pronouncing, DID make a huge difference in the world.

FYI, the first time I had heard of Ariel Shrag was due to Rory Root. He came up to me with her self-published comic and said "Read it, she's going to go far." Rory, you were right. I saw her name on "The L Word" as a writer.

*photo grabbed from Comic Relief website. Go there if you want to post memories.

In Support of the Writers' Strike

Sub-Conscious Meanings

Through BoingBoing I find out that Ray Bradbury has repudiated the notion that Fahrenheit 451 is about censorship.

With all due respect, I think Mr. Bradbury is wrong. I once read a review of Nobody where the reviewer noticed that the main character, Jessica got hurt worse and worse every time she cared. When she didn't give a shit, she succeeded.

I marvelled at this reviewer's insight. In some ways, because I have such trust issues, I wasn't making my protagonist pay for every time she trusted or cared.

Whether we writer/artists like it or not, themes come out through our creations, ones often deeper than the more conscious and intended themes.

Waaaaay Too Cool

Found this video through BoingBoing and just had to share with you all.

This guy, Eggman913 made a video of about 500 pieces of artwork, all featuring women's faces, morphing into each other. I spotted Da Vinci, Picasso, Monet, Mucha (two of them), and others I recognized but didn't know.

I want this as a screen saver now!



Enjoy this as much as I did!

Praise for M.B. Jessee

Bratworse had done a wonderful sponge paint job in the living room and of the walls affected by the flood of last year, one of them had the faux decorative wall paint on it. So we hired M.B. Jessee to paint this wall to match the other walls.

Well, because the job has taken so long, and the house is in complete disarray, the paint that was used as the base for that wall, was completely wrong. It was waaaay too pinkish (we have a blue/purple motif throughout the living room).

Brian Sweet (sp?) is M.B. Jessee's faux painter and oh man, did he do wonders!

He had called up saying umm, did you know that the base paint is waaaay off and we told him yes, we knew it, but please just do the best in matching the wall with the rest of the unit.

Expecting the worst, we came back to the house yesterday to inspect it and lo and behold, we were blown away. The result is only slighty more pinkish than the original. We are ECSTATIC!

So, if you are in the Oakland/Alameda/Bay Area and need a good decorative painter for your house/office/etc.? Hire Brian Sweet of M.B. Jessee! Outstanding work!

Meeting Online in Comments

Pandagon just did a review of Stuck Rubber Baby and so I made a comment there about how we'd snatch up the pages in the office when Stuck Rubber Baby was being produced. A day later, I went back to check the comments and lo and behold, there's Eddie, Howard Cruse's partner saying hi to me.

This is just one of the cooler things about the web... that you'd find an old acquaintance through a comments thread and chit chat for a day or two through it.

I like.

Marshall Rogers Died?!? Who Else?!?

I went with Bratworse to the dentist today and picked up a fairly recent Time magazine. Flippping through its pages, I stopped at Milestones (where the magazine recounts births, deaths and transitions) because there was an image of Batman at the bottom of the page.

(Note: Any self-respecting comic fan ALWAYS stops if there's a comic-related visual around)

The milestone was for Marshall Rogers' passing.

Last week, I read that Byron Preiss was killed in an auto accident in 2005.

There is a distinct sense in me, that time is passing.

Marshall Rogers (whom I've never met, but I've had the pleasure of working with his oft-partner in crime - Steve Englehart) drew THE Batman in the 70's (Steve wrote them, Marshall drew 'em). Marshall also gave the elongated look to Marvel's Iron Fist, Colleen Wing and Misty Knight. In the 80's, through Eclipse Comics, Marshall Rogers published his own Cap'n Quick and a Foozle, which I loved.

Rest in peace, Marshall Rogers. Thank you for giving comic book fans a great alternative to the campy Batman that was on TV.

Byron Preiss was a publisher I worked with A LOT in the 90's. In any given week, I had a client working for Byron Preiss Visual Publications. In fact, I considered his editor, Howard Zimmerman, a pretty decent friend - I always visited him and his wife when on business in New York. Byron was ALWAYS friendly to me at his office and at conventions. Every San Diego, he'd be there in his business suit, pressed at the beginning of the show, but showing rumples towards the end of the day. Byron'd always be grinning, wiping his forehead with his white hanky, pushing up his glasses, showing me their latest project and wondering which of my clients would be best for the project.

It was a true shock reading articles about his death. Byron was a nice man, who really wanted to make a mark in the comic book field. Byron, you did. Thanks for all the work you gave my clients. RIP, Byron. I'll miss you.

Weather Permitting

Grandma,

What a hard week it's been, huh? I don't think it fully set it that you won't bring me soup, coloring book and new crayons, even though I have a ghastly cold right now. You won't be there to grab my arm and comment that I am wearing your clothes, even though they were way too small for an adult, they HAD to be mine! Yea, I'll wear your clothes grandma, but you're reading my books!

Remember how crazy we were? Our trips to Disney Land, Bush Gardens?

"Grandma, drive fast through the puddles so I can see the rain dance!"

Me hanging out at your office,
"Grandma, I'm so bored... what can I do?"
"Why don't you count to 1,000?" ... 1...2...
"Grandma, what comes after 100? 200? 500?"

Some how we managed to drive from Florida to North Carolina, or was it the other direction? It was the first time I got to drive through rain puddles for you. I can't tell you how happy it made me when you asked me to. Of course you'd follow that with, "I want a milkshake," and it was freezing rain outside!

I think I was in denial all of last week. And, now... now! with my final (test) on wednesday, and my final (project) due on Friday (April 7th), I find you sitting in front of me, knocking on my brain, "hey... hey... give me a minute, cause this is going to be hard and I know it." Of course it didn't help matters any when I decided to center my final project in memory of you. I've titled my short animation "Weather Permitting," in tribute to your wonderful life and... well... you know.

Even though I would be away for so long, every time I returned you remembered who I am. I will never forget the love and happiness you shared and gave to me, and still give to me, even though I'm currently crying 'cause of you.

I have to admit though, I hope you don't keep up your end of the bargain. I am not sure I'd be able to keep it together if I can't find my shoes one day. Ever since I heard of your passing, I find myself looking over, just to make sure they're are still there.

Love,
-w

Weather Permitting:

In Memory of

Lefteria "Tillie" Kneffler
March 14, 1929 to
March 28, 2007