First session of a two-session ink completed.

Artist is Carly Menasco.

Images are cut as a courtesy )
kiya: (bone)
( Jan. 15th, 2007 11:59 pm)
is at [ profile] takingsteps: The Seam of Skin and Scales.

Because when they thought I was suicidal, I laughed at them and said "That would let the bastards win. I'm not letting the bastards win."

Because of not wanting to topple old oppressions with new ones.

Because damn, that's a fine piece of text.
The Woburn Public Library didn't have much of anything that was useful as a reference, but I didn't want to head back immediately after going through the catalog and the shelves, so I picked up an old (1928, I think) general history of Egypt and flipped through it for about an hour.

Which leads me to looking for this old thing I wrote on TC and wanting to put it here: geography and stuff. )
kiya: (songdragon)
( Dec. 3rd, 2003 05:15 pm)
    Turn off the light
    Let night embrace and take you in
    Sleep within its wisdom
    And . . .

    Dreams are not lost.
    They merely fall
    Beneath the ashes
    Of what is left
    To the soul
    From where it starts
    To where it catches.

    And this is our time -- until it passes.

-- "Matter", Josh Joplin Group

A while back, while commenting on the WNIP, [ profile] brooksmoses told me that one of the characters walks like I do, with a great deal of deliberate purpose, focus, or something.

I was listening to that song part of the way to the doctor and all the way back. It only enhances the effect; it's got a tremendous, pervasive walking rhythm to it. I can't do it justice.

It must have been a bit of a sight, me with my black boots laced, hooked, and buckled up, the black jeans, the Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt hidden under a flannel shirt which was invisible under the black leather jacket, all shrouded in my dark grey cloak which is lined in purple. And with a headscarf.

I wonder if the effect would have changed had the casial observer known that I am wearing one orange-red sock and one peach one.

But it worked; I was warm. Until I got to the doctor's waiting room which is apparently being kept at 85. Never has stripping naked and wearing paper towels been more appealing.

Only one person saw fit to comment upon my appearance; if I heard it correctly it said "Hey! Hey you! You're a disgrace to our race." I suspect that was the headscarf; it's brightly coloured (and thus cheerfully incongruous in all the shadow) and geometric-patterned, which probably parses as 'tribal' to the morons among us.

And this is our time until it passes.

I need WD-40 or something blown into my hip joints. Ow.


kiya: (Default)


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