Last month I went on vacation for the first time ever--no, wait, that's not right. Since law school started, I mean. Which felt like forever. But, technically, I'm told, was not.
Anyway.
Last month I went to the beach. I like beaches, but I don't swim. So, I read some novels, and I doodled a bit in a proper sketchbook for once, and THEN I realized I could be doodling in a completely non-proper sketchbook!
Sand! To make things with sand! How fantastical and full of wonder I was. All the little kids were totally jealous. All the adults were slightly creeped out.
Speaking of which, I swear I'm working on her shoulder in that picture.
Here she is mildly finished.
She's not dead, she's communing with starfish. See? Don't you ever commune with a freaking starfish? You should. Stop communing with jellyfish. That's just weird. Also, jellyfish hate you and want you to die. I should know this, I lived in Florida for four years. Although, in the jellyfishes' defense, MOST native Florida critters hate people and want us all to die, or to cover ourselves in raspberry jam so we can be better nibbled to death.
Speaking of vengeful animals, I next moved onto this:
I wanted him to be a fire-breathing dragon, and I tried to make fire out of sand, but I don't think that's a thing, or if it is, you end up with glass.
Here he is again:
I think I had already stepped on his feet at this point. Which is always bad, right? I hate it when people step on my feet. But it is infinitely worse when you're made of sand, because then you have NO FEET LEFT AT ALL. :(
Photos by my lovely fiance, who has feet, even though I step on his all the time (on purpose, obviously).
