Jennysaur

I've been shuffled off of my mortal day-job. This has proven to be one of the best things to ever happen to me. While I do often live in fear of poverty, I've been rocking the freelance vibe and trying to do my own thing. This has opened the door for much more art creation, painting, sketching and brainstorming. I've been drawing and painting a little every day, which is something I've always wanted to do, but couldn't because of the tight schedule. Not now, baby. I'm still busy, but I have a semblance of a life. I'm painting dragons. I'm happy.

I don't say this enough, but I love you. I love you and all of your brothers and sisters. Little Sculpture, forgotten and unkneaded. My darling Writing, not so forgotten as the others, but still neglected. Painting, I've treated you the worst of all. Half-formed cousins of yours are scattered on the walls and easel. I vow to be a better mother, a better creator. You sit on your easels, in your cabinets, saved to backup folders and tossed aside like the Christmas china - to be taken out and dusted off once a year or so for a day. You deserve better. I love you, and I'm sorry.

It's been a long time, my friends. I have seen many things come and go. I've lost and gained much since my last deviation. Things come in threes, people say. I'm more inclined to feel that they travel in twos. Two hearts beating as one, two sideways stories from wayside school, two socks, two brothers, two fish, two harmonies. Two. Say it enough times and it sounds like a strange exotic bird. I often feel like two people. One a loud-mouthed, confident rule-breaker with ragged wit and a tendency to say shocking things to the wrong people at the right time. The other, a wasteful, lazy, self-centered hypochondriac with little to shoot for but