ORIGINAL ART : "Artificial Demonology"
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| "Artificial Demonology" |
ORIGINAL ART : Color Pencil Sketches
The following are some color pencil sketches I've done in the month of June.
These first two were done in the last week or two of school, when the teachers were really getting on my nerves, and I was feeling pretty anti-social:
And then this is when I was finally on summer vacation. It must represent freedom, psychologically. I guess. Or not. Or whatever.
These first two were done in the last week or two of school, when the teachers were really getting on my nerves, and I was feeling pretty anti-social:
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| "Alienate Everyone" Colored pencil T. Kovac |
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| "'No' Face" Colored pencil T. Kovac |
And then this is when I was finally on summer vacation. It must represent freedom, psychologically. I guess. Or not. Or whatever.
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| "Devil Astride Hippity-Hop" Colored pencil T. Kovac |
ORIGINAL ART : "Soliloquy"
Just a sketch...
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| "Soliloquy" |
IN THE DREAMHOUSE : Wake Up Screaming
Last night around 3:30 I was having a nightmare so bad I started screaming FULL-VOLUME, while still sound asleep, and my husband had to shake me awake. As you would expect, he was pretty freaked out, and said of all the times I've started screaming in my sleep, this was definitely the worst and loudest. He was very concerned, and I had to reassure him that I was totally fine.
It was weird, because usually I wake MYSELF up with the dream-screaming, and it's usually sort of "sub-volume," which is still disturbing enough. But this time I could tell I was full-out screaming, and yet I wasn't waking up. It was like I was stuck in the nightmare.
It was disorienting and freaky. The emotion in the nightmare was total anguish, not fear, which made it even worse. It's harder to come down from anguish, than from fear. Don't you think?
When I was coherent enough to glance at the clock, it was exactly 3:33, and if you follow Satan on Twitter, you'll know 3:33 a.m. is considered the "Devil's Hour," by various different creepy interpretations. So I was like, "Shit!" (Because I saw The Exorcism of Emily Rose, and I know how that all played out.)
As I lay there panting and waiting for my pulse to stop racing, I looked over at Anthony, who was lying next to me, wide-eyed, with one hand on my shoulder, and thought, "Wow, I am SUCH a catch!"
Then I got a case of the giggles, and had to explain myself. What a freak. I kept picturing myself lying there in bed SCREAMING, and poor Anthony panicking and thinking WTF, and I couldn't stop laughing. So I had to get up and get a drink of water and read some comics for a while.
I'm a very happy person by day! I don't know why I'm such a freak in Dreamland.
(P.S.- I'm kidding about Satan on Twitter. I mean, maybe he does have an account, but I don't follow him, and I have no idea if he's divulged anything about 3:33 a.m.)
It was weird, because usually I wake MYSELF up with the dream-screaming, and it's usually sort of "sub-volume," which is still disturbing enough. But this time I could tell I was full-out screaming, and yet I wasn't waking up. It was like I was stuck in the nightmare.
It was disorienting and freaky. The emotion in the nightmare was total anguish, not fear, which made it even worse. It's harder to come down from anguish, than from fear. Don't you think?
When I was coherent enough to glance at the clock, it was exactly 3:33, and if you follow Satan on Twitter, you'll know 3:33 a.m. is considered the "Devil's Hour," by various different creepy interpretations. So I was like, "Shit!" (Because I saw The Exorcism of Emily Rose, and I know how that all played out.)
As I lay there panting and waiting for my pulse to stop racing, I looked over at Anthony, who was lying next to me, wide-eyed, with one hand on my shoulder, and thought, "Wow, I am SUCH a catch!"
Then I got a case of the giggles, and had to explain myself. What a freak. I kept picturing myself lying there in bed SCREAMING, and poor Anthony panicking and thinking WTF, and I couldn't stop laughing. So I had to get up and get a drink of water and read some comics for a while.
I'm a very happy person by day! I don't know why I'm such a freak in Dreamland.
(P.S.- I'm kidding about Satan on Twitter. I mean, maybe he does have an account, but I don't follow him, and I have no idea if he's divulged anything about 3:33 a.m.)
THE DEVIL
So this morning I was reading THE EXORCIST in the bathtub, in particular this really scary part where the demon is revealing itself to Father Karras, and all of a sudden TWO SHOWER CURTAIN HOOKS CAME UNDONE AND DROOPED DOWN!!!
They're the S-hook kind, not the ring kind, so the effect was of two curved DEVIL HORNS suddenly gazing down toward me where I lay vulnerable in the tub with my Kindle. And I probably shouldn't even have that near water, but I did. I do.
Why did those two hooks suddenly disengage and droop down? Was it... THE DEVIL?! Revealing itself to me, the way it was revealing itself to Karras in the book?
I was like, "Oh my god, what should I do? Should I do something?" But it seemed like it would have taken an awful lot of energy to stand up and fix the curtain, so I opted to just continue lying there with the devil staring at me.
I soon forgot all about it.
They're the S-hook kind, not the ring kind, so the effect was of two curved DEVIL HORNS suddenly gazing down toward me where I lay vulnerable in the tub with my Kindle. And I probably shouldn't even have that near water, but I did. I do.
Why did those two hooks suddenly disengage and droop down? Was it... THE DEVIL?! Revealing itself to me, the way it was revealing itself to Karras in the book?
I soon forgot all about it.
THE DEVIL'S CALORIES
(Obviously these are the Devil Days of February...)
I go through periods where I'm pretty disciplined about working out. But then something interrupts my groove and it's a sudden mudslide into donuts, cookies, and lots of cheese and other carbs. On my way down I grope for something to hold on to, to keep myself from sliding to the very bottom, but all I manage to grab are chocolate bars and extra pounds.
Lately I've been grimly determined to correct my many wrongs by spending time on the treadmill. Once I worked up to it, my daily goal became to burn 666 calories, according to the treadmill's readout. (Maybe not entirely correct, but possibly close?) I grit my teeth and think of it as "burning the Devil's calories."
I feel very accomplished every time I reach that goal, which has been a lot lately. There is much at stake. But I'm not sure who the triumph is for or against. Am I keeping the Devil AWAY by burning 666 calories? Or am I HONORING the Devil? I figure it's a good thing either way I imagine it. Maybe if I only burn 665 and 1/2 calories, the Devil wins my soul and drags me to Hell? By reaching my goal I either please him or defeat him, and either way I'm safe, right?
The flaming pit yawns hungrily beneath me and I MUST reach 666 calories or the treadmill will bang open like a trap door and down I'll go...
I go through periods where I'm pretty disciplined about working out. But then something interrupts my groove and it's a sudden mudslide into donuts, cookies, and lots of cheese and other carbs. On my way down I grope for something to hold on to, to keep myself from sliding to the very bottom, but all I manage to grab are chocolate bars and extra pounds.
Lately I've been grimly determined to correct my many wrongs by spending time on the treadmill. Once I worked up to it, my daily goal became to burn 666 calories, according to the treadmill's readout. (Maybe not entirely correct, but possibly close?) I grit my teeth and think of it as "burning the Devil's calories."
I feel very accomplished every time I reach that goal, which has been a lot lately. There is much at stake. But I'm not sure who the triumph is for or against. Am I keeping the Devil AWAY by burning 666 calories? Or am I HONORING the Devil? I figure it's a good thing either way I imagine it. Maybe if I only burn 665 and 1/2 calories, the Devil wins my soul and drags me to Hell? By reaching my goal I either please him or defeat him, and either way I'm safe, right?
The flaming pit yawns hungrily beneath me and I MUST reach 666 calories or the treadmill will bang open like a trap door and down I'll go...