Inktober Day Twenty-Six: Box

I posted a request on Facebook for a picture of a cat in a box, and within a half-hour I had six. Naomi Kritzer responded first, so it was her cat Cassandra Fluffypants that got drawn, which is totally fitting because her short story Cat Pictures, Please won a freaking Hugo Award this year.


Inktober Day Twenty-five: Tired

Me holding my younger niece, a little over three years ago. I was bouncing her gently as this photo was taken, and my brother said “She doesn’t like to be jiggled too much.” “She just went to sleep again, so I must be doing something right,” I replied.

Also: this one took forever. Babies are really hard to draw.

Inktober Day Twenty-Four: One Dozen

My approximate weekly intake, not even gonna deny it. I have a problem.

Inktober Day Twenty-Two: Little

“Though she be but little, she is fierce!”

Inktober Day Twenty-Three: Slow

As much as I adore sloths, I don’t believe I’ve ever drawn one. So I drew two. (Three-toed sloths are my favorite sloths, though ttwo-toed sloths are nearly as cute. And one cannot forget to mention the sadly-extinct giant sloths, which are terrifying.)

Inktober Day Twenty-One: Big

A view of Paul and R, below Alum Bluff, during our first trip to Starved Rock.

Inktober Day Twenty: Squeeze

And here’s a hurried and disproportionate ink sketch of my main squeeze.

Inktober Day Nineteen: Flight

I had my Inktober schedule thrown off by: giant mushroom, family, dance practice, family, wedding, and sickness, in that order. But I was still getting the drawings done anyway; I just didn’t have time to post them. But you probably won’t notice that anyway since I’m going to backdate the posts. So I guess I’m just confessing to posting six Inktobers all on the same night. Most, including this one, are way more rushed than I’d like. Lately my art and other projects are just crammed in the corners of my life. I hope to grant them more space over the winter, but for now, they’re just kinda wedged in there.

Anyway: Flight.

Been a long time since I drew this guy. He’s impervious to electricity for some reason, so in this image he’s just yanked apart a few big hunks of a power station.


Tonight Paul and I rode the stretch of the KRVT that runs between our house and the Kal-Haven trailhead. Along the way I found this absolutely massive puffball. It was literally bigger than my head. And of course, since it was the one time in the last ten years I went out without my pannier, I had to carry it home zipped inside my hoodie like a great round beer gut.

Paul isn’t interested, so I have a heaping plateful of mushroom slabs fried in butter. Anybody want them for breakfast tomorrow morning? Just fry them again with a couple eggs and you’ll have a killer breakfast.

Inktober Day Eighteen: Escape

Hiking has become an increasingly important escape route for me. Here’s one of the more gorgeous places I’ve been lucky enough to hike: the Pacific Northwest. This is Second Beach, in La Push, Washington. I would love to escape there again someday.

Inktober Day Seventeen: Battle

Every day I fight with negativity, with my fitness, with my weight. Today was rougher than usual. I had to drag myself to work, drag myself outside, drag myself to the gym. I felt much, much better afterwards, but today was all about going through the motions just to get to the afterwards.

It’s a worthwhile fight. So here’s some positive reinforcement: A power rack selfie after hitting three personal records.

Inktober Day Sixteen: Wet

A quick and dirty sketch of myself rolling my kayak for the first time — loose and low quality because the reference material is fuzzy.

And therein lies a quick story:


A couple of months back, I sold my dear old red kayak, Waterbender, and bought a fancy new sea kayak, the better to have longer and more long-distance adventures. Part of being safe in your boat is being able to recover yourself if a wave knocks you over, and so I made a commitment to learn to roll my boat. Paddling buddy R was generous enough to give me a couple of one-on-one lessons in return for dinner.

Things didn’t go well at first: learning to roll was terrifying for me. The combination of being upside down, with water rushing in towards my brain through my nose and ears, and having my legs trapped triggered a serious panic sensation, and I’d flail and gasp and thrash and wet exit every time, even with patient R holding my shoulders.

On R’s recommendation I borrowed her nose plugs, Paul’s swim goggles, and bought some swimmer’s ear plugs. I found a handicapped ramp at a local lake and used the railing to practice rolling myself back and forth manually. I could only manage an hour or so at a time, and then the repeated visits to the panicky place would just be too much.

But the noseplugs made a huge difference, as did the swim goggles. Once I could see what I was doing underwater, and once all my air wasn’t rushing out of my nose in an effort to keep the water out, I could slow down and actually think instead of just reacting. R suggested that I just try hanging upside down for a bit longer each time, and so I did, slowly building up my tolerance.

I watched videos in the meantime, studying body placement. If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m a thinker-learner, not a doer-learner. Eventually I found a couple videos that showed some dry-land practice drills — which sounds goofy as heck, I know — that turned out to give me the lightbulb moment I needed to put it all together.

Winter was fast approaching, and I maybe had forty-five minutes of daylight each night at the lake. The water was getting progressively colder, which made me less eager to go dunk myself repeatedly. Finally, on the last good warm evening of the year, I was out with my buddy B, who caught my very first successful roll on camera. I rolled three times that night: the first one I popped right up like I’d been doing it my whole life, and on the last two I was able to reset after a failure, which is also a good skill to develop. None of them were pretty rolls, but this winter I’ll be able to polish my technique in swimming pool lessons.

Take that, anxiety!

Inktober Day Fifteen: Relax

A request from Paul: Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the original, banned album cover.

Inktober Day Fourteen: Tree

Et in Arcadia Ego.

Inktober Day Thirteen: Scared

It’s what keeps me awake at night.

Inktober Day Twelve: Worried

Our dear sweet old dog, Zoë, who worried constantly about everything, always.

Drew her fur a bit too dark; I really should have switched over to a smaller micron pen, but at least it’s done, and on time.

Inktober Day Eleven: Transport

My good old Riedell 495s. Currently set up with hockey laces, leather toe guards, Pilot Falcons and Sure Grip Zombies, 98a low. Yes, I’m a gear nerd.

This sketch is pretty disproportionate, but it was late, and after 2 1/2 hours of skating, so I was pretty tired and just needed to get it done. I like the dry brush on it, so that much is good.

Inktober Day Ten: Jump

Featuring Stefanie Mainey of the London Rollergirls.

And, for the moment: I’m caught up on Inktobers! Hooray! (this won’t last. enjoy the moment.)

Inktober Day Nine: Broken

Left over from Sunday’s breakfast.

Inktober Day Eight: Rock

Kayaking with R and K at the Apostle Islands, Bayfield, Wisconsin (That’s K in the tunnel).

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