Welp.
It’s been another long strange year. I moved. I am now in a farmhouse with my buns and an upstairs art studio (my bed, complete with Batman sheets, is up there as well).
I *love* rural life. Truly. I was born in a farming community, spent all my formidable years in one and now, it appears, I shall be buried in one.
And – that’s fine by me. Suburbia never knew what to think of me anyways.
I found a chicken cam on YouTube. I swear to God – only in Ohio …
FOWL OHIO
THE HOLLY KING
I have never had lips to begin with. Ever. Then, in 2008 I contracted MRSA , was hospitalized and had not 1, but 2 surgeries. “OH MY GOSH!” you may be exclaiming. “WHERE DID YOU GET THE SURGERIES?” Well, allow me to show you:
So I am now missing part of my lower lip. It is GONE. It is also numb and I get a lot of food on myself. But that is for another Sunday.
You see? Paper thin to begin with minus a chunk of the lower lip.
During Covid Quarantine I adopted many hobbies. One was trying out miracle products and make-up.
Today, I take you on the LIP PLUMPER DONKEY RIDE.
No specific shout-out. Just KNOW that … getting plump lips can be expensive for a starving artist losing her mind. And I wanted you to see that I am NOT kidding. I am not a make-up person either. I am a “what you see is what you get” kinda gal.
The product is vegan friendly and cruelty free.
This product also promises to fill in those lip lines you get when you get my age and older. You know the ones: you put color on and it bleeds up your face.
Above are my lips eagerly awaiting to the plumping. The instructions advise to wait 2 to 5 minutes before decorating said Plumped Puss with lip liner, lipstick and/or gloss. So I waited. But I am not one to idle about, you know?
OK then.
See you next Sunday!
His Twitter sparks joy. There. I said it. And I am a better person for having said it.
I normally ignore the filthy rich. I can’t relate to them. Heck, I can hardly wrap my mind around the words, “expendable income”.
Remember this?
This is pretty much how I view Wall Street shenanigans:
But then GameStonk happened:
While I was keenly following the stock market like a Hedge Fund, I saw this:
Is this guy the Everyman’s billionaire?
Yes! Yes, he is.
So … I Tweeted @ him and asked if he would pay my art school student loan. I also shared my age (indicating I’ll die before I even get close) as well as my opinion that art degrees should be illegal.
I would love to have that loan gone! I would much prefer that I somehow hit big with Regarding Comic and Raging Bunnies and wipe that God forsaken loan out! Alas, I have no clue how to even begin. I’m flying by the seat of my jammy pants at any given moment.
Anyway, I remain hopeful that Daddy Musk will come through. I’ll keep you posted. </sarcasm>
From the sketchbook:
ART SCHOOL CONFIDENTIAL – Daniel Clowes
You’re welcome.
God requires that we assist the animals, when they need our help. Each being has the same right of protection.
-Francis of Assisi
I am not Catholic. If you want to label me perhaps “Heretical Non Denominational Buddhist Wiccan Kinda Believer” would cover it.
Honestly, I’m white knuckling it in the belief department.
I ddocall myself “Christian” because it’s what I seem to know most about. Well that and feminine symbolism. People would tell you otherwise about me being “Christian”. I have no problem with anyone’s path – unless the “tools” of that path are used as weapons. Stop doing that. Stop. You have no right to declare any brand dogma superior and you can’t legislate morality for the masses.
So stop it.
But I digress.
I was reading about Saint Francis of Assisi. What a cool guy! He called all of creation “Brothers” and “Sisters”.
And there is so much YES to that. I decided to write a sermon to my rabbits in the vein of Assisi.
Because this is how I roll, dagnabbit.
…….
Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord.
Psalm 150:6
Sister rabbits, praise our Creator [by any name in which we call upon the Creator] and love Them always.
They clothed you in warm fur to protect you, gave you swift legs to carry you and blessed you with a radiance of wit.
Among all of Their creatures, They made you cunning and quick. [… but first, they must catch you.]
They gave you a soft fleeting foot and a silent voice yet you rage profoundly eternal in my heart.
You are in perfect alignment and await my redemption.
You are perfect in creation.
You are blessed and a blessing.
…….
RESPONSE OF THE CONGREGATION
Humans, be kind stewards to all creation.
What a strange trip 2020 has been.
I found myself stuck in a commission. That has never happened before.
Maybe the isolation of 2020s plague got to me. Or the medical scare. Or the general state of weirdness our culture is in.
I started the commission. Stopped.
Started it again. Stopped.
Maybe I’m just getting old.
I started it yet again. Stopped again.
I was depressed and wasn’t sure what was happening.
Somewhere in there I ate an aweful lot of Oreos and received some of the most bizarre Amazon packages.
As a kid I would illustrate the situations I wanted. I called it “making things real.” I made a world where I was mystifyingly beautiful and there were winged horses and unicorns. And a cow. The cow wasn’t magic though. She was just a cow.
As an adult, I still “make things real.”
Bridge buns are brought to life [for me] and I fall in love with every one I draw.
EVERY.ONE.
They “speak” to me and I talk to them.
But there I was: stuck. Like a truck in mud: the wheels spinning but I wasn’t going anywhere.
This bun wasn’t talking to me. Stubborn boy.
One afternoon while chasing around the hot mess that is Snow – she stole one of my pencils – I realized something …
This was the *first* pencil-in-hand project that I was doing without Lance. My muse. My companion. My critic.
He would snuggle under my drawing board in and stay for as long as I did. I’d take a break and he’d look the project over, judge it, judge me, judge my existance as a whole … the way rabbits do.
I brought the hot mess that is Snow back in studio. She bit all the tips off my color pencils. She slid my rough sketches and models across the floor. She flopped a foot away from me.
Then… I drew.
Everyone – meet Thor.
In this, the apocalyptic year of 2020, expect the unexpected. I received notice today that our very own mad plague doctor himself, Doctor Sammy, has been spotted.
No need to fear it as a bad omen. In fact it is quite fortuitous in that tomorrow is the warren’s all time favorite holiday: HALLOWEEN!
A big “thank you” to the reader who sent this in – there truly are no words.
Welp.
Back to the drawing board. Literally!
Well … 2020 has certainly been … interesting. I am still working on Oreo Cookies [Family Packs at a time, mind you] and to say I am stir-crazy is an understatement. I am … something. So, is it any surprise that the US election is … terrifying?
I cannot guarantee a timely delivery with this product as Covid-19 is still doing a number on many industries that affect independent artists like Yours Truly. It’s … frustrating.
But, it is what it is. I hope you enjoy the buttons. I am off to order a few packs for myself. I am curious as to how gummed up the production/packaging/shipping is lately. I mean, I just received a package that I had ordered in June 2020. As in, I received it TODAY. That’s ok — it was like CHRISTMAS! “What could it be?!”
[It was a pair of shoes that are so cool because I only wear cool shoes].
Speaking of Christmas — or Yule — or Hanukkah — Kwanzaa — National Cookie Day — or if you are a poor soul with a birthday over the holiday season [raises hand],
Holiday Cards will soon be available!
And the new year will be right around the corner …
If you have an idea for a product, print, or comic feel free to shoot me an email!
Until next time:
Pass the word: tinyurl.com/RABBITWRITEIN
Huzzah!
OCT 1 2020 CALIFORNIA
I am off on a grand journey! I begin in PUH-LENTY of time for the quarantined holidays and look forward to making a “certain someone” very happy!
OCT 20 2020 OREGON
I don’t pretend to understand the mysterious ways of the United States Postal Service.
In fact, I just go with the flow. I DO know, for a fact , that for whatever reason, I am somewhere in Oregon!
NOV 15 2020 INDIANA
Hello Fellow Travelers!
At last, after a few weeks of laying low, I am almost to Ohio!
I enjoy travel as much as the next guy but I am ready to land! Darned mail-in voting put a glitch in mail travel!
But that’s OK!! I am PSYCHED!
NOV 15 2020 TOLEDO, OHIO
The LAST STOP before my final destination! I cannot tell you how excited I am!
I will still arrive in plenty of time for grand celebrations!
TOLEDO OH SIDE STORY:
In December 2018, a Toledoite saw a big ol’ weed horkin’ up the intersection of Secor and Alexis.
The city knew about said weed but seriously, Toledo has a little more to worry about than an unsightly, overgrown weed.
As a lark, said Toledoite went into the corner drug store for décor. A Christmas ball strategically placed was like a beacon in this less-than-stellar town.
Then … it grew and it grew. Like the Grinch’s heart except there was no roast beast to carve.
The Toledo community left gifts, scarves, shoes, blankets, mittens, money, non-perishable food etc, for people in need.
It was to the point there were daily pick-ups for charity. We had Santa, elves, and a stream of carolers.
Good-hearted people came out of the woodwork (Surprise! There are a couple of those still out there!).
It was the best thing ever and restored an ounce of my faith in humanity.
Then, of course – someone tried to commercialize the thing and it all died.
NOV 20 2020 DETROIT, MICHIGAN
What?! Wait.
Ohhhh, Ok. THIS is the LAST STOP before my final destination. I am still excited! I am going to make it before Thanksgiving! I think.
NOV 30 2020 CHICAGO
HOLD. UP.
Why in Hades am I in Chicago?! How did I get rerouted?
TRUE STORY:
Anish Kapoor [the artist behind Chicago’s bean seen above] PURCHASED THE RIGHTS to the Blackest Color Ever Made.
I can’t make this up.
So, in retaliation, another artist , Stuart Semple, made his own super black—and now? It’s Even Blacker.
SEE IT HERE
Everyone is allowed to use Stuart Semple’s new Black 3.0
—except Anish Kapoor. You have to digitally sign-off on a promise that you are NOT Kapoor or associated with his studio.
Yes. Really.
DECEMBER 15 2020 AUSTRALIA
???????????????!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, wait. That’s not me. Or is it?
LOST: Two (2) SUNNY SAM BEACH TOWELS. Both headed for New South Wales to different addresses. Both lost on the same day at the same distribution center. BOLO for said towels on the beach. Approach with caution. Ask politely: Excuse me … but do you happen to work for the parcel service?
DECEMBER 27 2020 KENTUCKY
Help.
Not gonna lie. I’m a little bummed that my packages are more well-traveled than I. Godspeed all you lost packages! May you bring a smile to someone’s face!
I got a new phone.
Look at my new phone.
LOOK AT IT.
This phone has 4 cameras. I think we all know what that means …
And there are filters!
I will leave you with this because I cannot stop laughing at it:
I saw that someone had left me a phone message at the wee hour of 9:00 am in the morning. [Don’t judge. I’m vampirish in nature].
I pushed play and it went something something something MEDICAL “please return the call as soon as possible …”
O, crap. My heart went into my throat. I immediately knew my lady bits Doctor took another look at the lady bits biopsy and found something amiss with my lady bits. [It’s called hypochondria].
A new month is dawning in 2020 after all. What fresh hell could possibly lay ahead? lie ahead? be in store?
I followed the phone message instructions.
A friendly voice answered and enquired about how she might help me.
“I was instructed to dial this number and then press the number 2 —
So I did.”
There was a bit of a pause and then a giggle. All I heard was “to schedule a mammogram” and I groaned a long toddler-like groan, “Whyyyyyyyy?” I finally surrendered. “Fine. Do it then,” I snapped oh, so tersely.
Another snicker.
NOTE: I did not realize I had choices in mammograms! These are exciting times! O, advanced technology, thy name is – 3D.
She went on with, “For verification purposes could you
P̷̘͎̈́̄͐́̂̾̉̓̋͌̆̅̊̒́̚͘͝l̶̢̨̬̠̹̥͇̆̃̍̅͂̏͘͘͘͜ẻ̶͓̗̮̳̜̼̪̙̻͕̭̜̰̝̙̲̏͆̀̈́͛̔̽̆̌̂͛͘̕̕̕͜á̵̩̃́̀̄͒̂̈́̾̈́s̸̢͖͓̗͉̖̺̟̤͉̦͆́̓́̇̋́̓̒͝͝͝ȩ̴̢̛̱̖͓̟̫̻̳͙̹̯̰͍̘̔̐̒͂̑̓͌̈́̾̃̔̈́̚͝ͅ ̶̧̢̰̪̫͙̠͈̌̎͂̆̃̿̆̿̊͂̓̉̀̿̍̊͘͜s̶̬͚̳͈̟̲̞̝͎̗̫̮̬̳̰̲͑̋̄̎́́͗̌̀͛͂̏̿̊̎͆͂͝t̷̡̗̖̼̲͕̥͔̰̟̫̃͐́͛̋͆̆͘͘a̷̢̢̖̞̻̝͙̗̟̹̻̦͍̝̪̪͕͗̉͑̾̇͛̑͘͜͝t̵̖̹̭̹͖͙̙̦̩̫̞̠̩͍̟̲̙͙͛̄̌e̴̡̨̢͖͖̥͙̱̝̍̀̽͒́͜ͅ ̸̧̥̹̺̫̙̞͇̗̯̗̪͉̼̹͖̦̂͊̿͜ẙ̶͈̰̯̺̘̯̼̖̬̄̂̽̋̅̊́̈̅͑͌̀̿͗ͅő̸̝̝͔͚̼͎̘̹̙̣͍̻̀̓̋̂́̀̕͜u̴̧̢̡̦̞̙̻͖̗̯̩͇̬̳̯̘̿͆̊̇́͆̈́͆̀̑͂̊̑̈̄̋͘͜͠r̸̙̬̖͖̗͖̿̍̏̔̓̉͗̌̋͂͝͝ͅ ̸͍̞̹̩̐͂̈́̆̐̍̈́́͑͆͋̉̋͑̆̽̚̚n̸̢̡̖̬͎͔̺̬͕͔̝̟̳̞̼̦̩͗̇͆a̵͙̣̝̭͖͒m̸̛̰̫̖̭̽̒̃̓͊͌͐͌̐͒̆̽̀͒̚͝ͅė̷̹̯̝͈̖͆͆̇̎̂͋̏̋́͝͝ ̷̥̯̖̬͂́͌͑͌̏̾̊͗̊͝ͅ ?”
Me: WAT
The woman on the other end of the phone suddenly burst into hysterical laughter.
So I did what any red-blooded American would do: I returned the revelry.
For 10 minutes straight.
I have no idea what the hell we were laughing at or about, but I got a runner’s cramp.
She finally continued:
May I have
T̴̬͉̤̜̗̺̰̝͕͉̙̳̜͐̈̄̐̐̒͜͝h̵̨͓̗̰̦̚e̸̛͇̱̭͓͕͓̙̣͔͑̈́̅̍̆̊̂͆͜ ̴̬̎̐̀̊͒̌͗̀̌̀̓̽͂̍͘͝͝ͅl̵̛̟̮̱͒͊͛̉̒̽͆̈́̏̉̈́̔̄̇͆͘͠a̶̛̭̙͓̼̜̫̥̘̬͂͋́̈́̅̓̀̒́̆͗s̴̡̪͈̺͇͚̘̞̲̰̣͑̒̈̽̽̇̌̿͝͠ͅt̵̖͙̫̦͌̆͗̉̒́͂̍̒̋̌͂̚̚͠ ̴̧͍͎̯̇͌͊̐̓̚̚f̴̙̹̠͖̘̲̺̅̀̀͜ȍ̸͉͙̜̏́͗̈̅́͌̐̌͝ư̶͈̲̻̭̱͔̎̀͂̓̓̃̐͂̋̍̃̀̈̕̕͝r̸̥͎̼͈̀̓̀͌̒̆̿͛̆̉͂̋́̀́̚͠͝ͅ ̴̧̬͓̦͍̅̾̊͑͘͝͝d̷̛̪́̈̓̈́̂̌̆̽̌̚ͅi̸̢̛͖̱̞̺̙͍͚͙̮͈̽̏̆͋̅͠ǵ̵̢̢̛̯͉̙͕̙̦̬͓͎̟̳͙̺̭̓͑͊͑͌̀̉̚͜i̸͍̖̰̘̞̣̲̟͛̇́̽̈́͘t̵̨̢̨̞̙͓͓̬̫̟͚͕̠͍̏̓̌̈́̏͐͒̄̀̄̌̓̚̚͝͝͠ͅs̵̢̛̜̭͇͎͖͎͈̳̖̮̰͒͐̍̌̐̈́̄̃̂͑̚͝ ̶̮͔͉̭̟̦̤͉̟̥̱̩̽̋̃̑͋͒͂͐̒͘̚̚͜͝ͅơ̵̝̤͍͇̠̭͌̀͌f̷̡̱̩͓̝͍̘̱̘̟̠͙̰͓̺͖̖̆͌̐̕ ̴̧̥͓͇̙̯̰̞̻̼͍̹̱͐̄͆̇̈ẙ̸̡̨̧̡̱͉͓̘̹̳͇̣̥̗͕̫̓̓̒͆͗̈́̂̔̒͂͗̒̔̿̚̕͜ớ̸̡̢̪̹̝͎̲̰͈̰͍̈̑̈́́̄͂͗̓̔̾̊̾͌̕u̶͍̳̣͈̯̘̰͕̺͈̜̪͆̈́͜͜r̶͈̝̩͎͎̜̻̫̩̲̠̖̥̯̾̄͛̃̌̅̕͠ͅ ̸̧͔̮͓̪̘̬̪̮͎̜͚̗͖̝͌ͅs̵̢͍͈̼̻̊̋̈́̈́͌͂́̈͗̅̽̚͘͠͝s̵̛͔̓̈́̊̂ ?”
Me: WAT.
And it all started again.
Eventually, we did manage to get to the most important information such as we both gained lots of weight during quarantine, she lives near me and we both have noticed the inordinate number of local skinny suburban housewives in yoga pants that we both lovingly referred to as “Karens.”
“You know,” I say, “you may have seen me walking to the lake. Can’t miss me. I have long red hair and dress, comparitivly to Karen, dumpy.”
Her: OH MY GOD! DO YOU WALK LIKE YOU’RE ANGRY?!
Well, obviously it was me. It’s a no-brainer. Hey – you would look angry too if you had daily existential crisises criseeze crises if you were a nihlist.
I directed her to my website to see my photo for verification.
OH MY GOD IT IS YOU!!
She was looking at the comic.
The conversation and chortling continued.
For 45 minutes.
She shared how to work out while holding an ice cream cone and I shared how to do butt and leg lifts while laying in bed at night eating potato chips – never missing a chip.
We even shared things I can’t write about publicly. Well … I shared things I can’t … you know … write about publicly because I have no boundaries. [The call may have been recorded for quality assurance] *ahem*
When there was a lull in the wackiness action I asked, “So what time is this appointment?”
“Ten a.m.”
“Wait. I asked for afternoon.”
Trying to stifle guffaws she blurts out, “I FORGOT!!” and then we returned, yet again, back to the beginning levels of jocularity. We did not pass “GO” we did not collect $200. I snorted. I cried. And – I peed my pants.
My rabbits looked disturbed and that made it all the funnier.
I realize there is a good possibility that this is one of those “you had to be there” events – Still, I highly recommend some good howling laughter for everyone.
Watch this:
Ok. Try watching it at 3 am after eating a family sized pack of Oreos, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and thinking about death. It’s freaking hilarious!
It seems I found a lost member of my tribe. In these times of insanity and uncertainty, it was an unexpected connection and a much-needed catharsis.
It truly is the best medicine. Especially for existential hypochondriacs like me.
