This is Summer

The atmosphere is clogged with moisture,

making it near impossible to breathe.

Wave after wave pound on my skin,

turning it crispy and burnt.

I can smell the muggy moldy ground,

a smell that almost makes me wrinkle my nose.

It’s so potent that I feel as if I’m eating moss.

Insects chatter around my ears,

in the distance a rumble of thunder announces the storms presence.

Advertisements

Fem Tombo skirt and petticoat WIP

 

It’s the time of cosplay for me with Otakon 2016 quickly approaching.  So I’ve been working on my female Tombo from Kiki’s delivery service costume the past week.  I wanted to go with a more lolita look with the skirt so I made a large circle skirt with pretty lace that will have a  petticoat to go under to make it poofy  I’m going to make a flowy tank top with the painted white fabric.  White bloomers (that are not pictured) will be complete the costume.  When I do finish the whole costume I will post more detailed and full body pictures.

Days of Drawings

For the past few years I’ve been working at a daycare center (the same that I grew up in, but that’s a tale for another time).  Recently I’ve been covering vacations for full time staff, usually pulling 9 hour days.  For one hour every day I’m tasked with watching over the kids while they nap.  This is very boring and very tempting to fall asleep just like them,  so I entertain myself by drawing for that hour.  These are the drawings that I’ve accumulated over the past couple of days.  While they aren’t my most prized drawings I’m still quite proud of them (especially when I consider other works I do for kids are scribbled in 15 minutes or less and are of poor quality).  So enjoy my drawings.

 

Through the Year

This is the time when fireplaces are rekindled with life

As families bathe in the crackling warmth.

Steamy mugs come back in season,

Boots take over the concreate

Marching across the hard stones laid on upon your body.

Yet you rule over this estate with your glacial hands,

Smothering your subjects in a heavy white blanket

While snuffing out the kindness of the sun.

You lock us in your grip for an eternity, sucking away our souls

Until a miserable husk is left.

Crystalline mistress

 

Finally able to shed our furry skins

And be more in touch with you.

Feet break free of their oppressive cages; windows fly open.

Birds nestle in their homecoming perches,

Announcing each morn with a song of praise, whether we like it or not.

Yet, you too, will unknowingly torture your adoring crowd.

Hordes of insects will be unleashed upon our hides,

Feasting upon our vital fluid.

You’ll block our breath with poison petals.

Mother, why have you forsaken us?

 

True blue skies with no veil to dull its brilliance

Shall be the anthem of this time.

We flock to thousands to destinations,

Freed from our daily life responsibilities.

Flickering lights float lazily through the twilight atmosphere;

Easily captured and made into lanterns.

Even you have a dark side.

Sweltering moisture hangs in the air, restricting our lungs of its basic food.

Rainbow rays pound on naked skin, a ruddy rash breaking out on the surface.

Fevering bodies become comatose.

Golden Empresses

 

The winds are nipping at our sun kissed skin,

Time to grow back our furs.

Leaves dress themselves in their seasonal garb,

Crimson, gold, clementine,

Their floating deaths are tragically elegant, falling down, down into the void.

Tis the time of dying, and yet also a time for life.

Growers gather their crops for all to partake in.

You’ll slowly steal our life giving star,

Slowly replacing it with a chilling darkness.

Noses can’t breathe in your crisp air, for they clog up from your natural spices.

Harvester

‘Cause Society Tells You To

Cut that                                                                                                            Skim that

  Tuck that                                                                                    Slice that

   Pluck that                                                                  Shave that

Tone that                                          Flatten that

     Paint that                                                               Pull that

    Shrink that                                                                                 Wear that

Slim that                                                                                                        Change that,

Try to imitate unattainable attractiveness.

Spring Time in the Air

Spring is finally starting to come back.  A few trees are starting to bloom in soft delicate colors—most still lie in dormitory, bare skeletons scratching at the air.  Their perfume drifts in the air barely noticeable.  The weeping willows I love so much are waving to me in the cool breeze.  Above me geese are squawking, as they return to their old mating grounds to begin to the process of birth over again.  Other birds flit from tree to tree chirping words I can’t understand.  It is the time of new beginnings.

Yet, here I sit on the sun warmed rocks casting my forlorn gaze into the gurgling stream.  The crystal clear water easily flows over or around obstacles that get in the way—I’m jealous of its ease to do so.  Sunlight dances on the rippling surface, making the water appear crystalline.  It’s still too cold to dip my childish feet into the liquid crystal rapids, so I contempt myself by gazing at its beauty.  Little brown fish glide among the rocks, but flinch away at my movements—they see me as a threat.

 

 

I probably should have put some sunscreen on my pale pinky flesh, but didn’t think I’d be sitting here for so long.  My arms burn in the heat and I most likely could melt chocolate on my hair—though the heat now matches the color of it.  Nature holds me where I am; there is no point in resisting what Mother Nature wants—I still try though.  I just can’t abandon the comfort and familiarity of this place, even though I knew it was burning me.

I don’t know how long I’ve sat here, but the white fluffy clouds are starting to turn grey.  They slowly swallow the light of the sun, casting everything in a shade of dull darkness.  The water looks inky and dirty now, its crystalline brilliance gone.  Cold winds rustle the wild grasses around me, raising bumps up and down my arms.  Birds stop their singing as they settle on skeletal branches, intently watching the sky be overtaken by the grey overcast.  The clouds have taken the source of my pain away.

Will the heavens cry for me?