Haven't updated this thingum in a bit, so here goes.

My brain is in the process of clawing itself to tiny, squiggling little screaming monsters, my heart's crawled from my sleeve to my throat, my ribs are trying to eat my liver, and my jeebies have horrible little heebies crawling all over them. Not that I'm complaining. When I'm like this, I tend to draw and write the most interesting (if unsettling) stuff.

On the bright side, I built a very, very simple robot three weeks ago, out of a retainer-case, the wire from an old art project, tape, a lovely little motor, a compass, an AA battery, and a bunch of glue. It's not terribly complicated, just something I threw together out of boredom at about two in the morning while coping (read, giving in to) a fit of insomnia. I'll probably take it apart and use the pieces to build a better one before too long.

Alas for the mediocre science project. Rest in pieces, and be ressurected as an improvement. Amen.

I'm getting caught between story-fragments (arcs?) in my comic-story-thingummy again, but, no matter. What's done is done, and seeing as it's nowhere near done, I can keep on fiddling 'till I find it works. Lots of experimentation. Be prepared for colour tests and practise drawings, yes?

Also! I made another nifty little wound for the occasion of Easter Sunday, because I couldn't think of a better day of the year to cover my neck with hideously infected, gangrenous tissue. The sister took some photos of it, so I'm just waiting for her to put them on the computer, so I can show you lot why you should always look back, and never, ever, EVER wait until you can feel someone breathing down your neck to try and run.

I should be working. I owe a story-fragment.

May your motor remain fully functional.

~Scare