When I was a kid, visuals and storytelling were inextricable to me. Inextricable! I drew and wrote a series of five "books" called, The Plant Doctor. Yes. It was rather, um, slow-moving -- but it was odd enough to be worthy of a chortle, at least! It was about an nine-year-old who took care of sickly plants in various elderly, mental health, and low income residences. What made me invent that story -- and it wasn't much of an invention as I ignored, crusty-brown plants made me cry, and I lived in a government subsidized income for the elderly and disabled at the time -- was a series of practice still life drawings I did.
"Haha!" said my eight-year-old self, "I'll create a little botanist who travels to these places to figure out why these plants are dying! She'll be nine-years-old, way better than eight, and while working with the plants, perhaps she can solve human mysteries, too! She can help plants *and* people." Picture a young me with a look of supreme self-satisfaction on her face. Yeah. That's it.
I may be making fun of that little girl, but I'm totally invested in finishing what she started -- what I started -- and then put on pause, several years ago. I'm gonna draw to get to my stories.
I'll divine, I'll automatize, I'll tap into my subconscious, all that lovely booga booga. I'll do it each morning before writing, and I'll post the drawings and ideas here. I'll think of it as sort of online idea book + sketchblog. Think of this space as an extension of my creepy, little imagination. Or don't think of it as all. Just look at it, think my offering gorgeous or ghastly, and then chortle. It'll be fun! Come on.
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