I’m tired today. It’s barely nine, and I’m yawning.

Part of me thinks this is ridiculous–I mean, I woke up only a smidge over twelve hours ago, and I took a nap in there, too (haunted by very bizarre dreams about faceless drowned women being worshipped by lapsed Jesuit priests, weirdass angry cyborg creatures with hollow, gunky skulls with the fronts taken off, and their eyes on metal stalks,* and a mournful, six-legged, chitinous creature that called itself the Blue Knight, who was telling me about having tea with the Hasani,** and rhapsodizing about “those little teacups. Black. Lacquer. Priceless.”) so the point is, before I got distracted by weird dreams, that I have had plenty of sleep and have no cause to be wiped out at a bedtime I haven’t kept since I was ten.

On the other hand, I’m still running on empty after the Con–there’s a kind of art exhaustion that sets in that has nothing much to do with sleep, and everything to do with going to the creative well too many times, too quick. But if I can get through this weekend, I can sleep for a week and do no art at all…well, except Digger…

On the bright side, I did get both a Digger and three pieces done today, two 5 x 7, one 8 x 10, all pencil sketches, but of sufficient polish that I can slap ’em into mats. They’ll be up for awfully cheap, but the important thing is to fill some of the art show space. There’s a fairly realistically done piece of the Vegetable Lamb, and two small silly ones, of a dragon with a chicken on its nose and zombie hamsters. I have D&D tomorrow, for the first time in weeks, and I almost considered begging off, but I can sketch there, so I’ll lug along my supplies and wring the last drops of art from my crumpled brain.

*This might make me angry, too.

**Whoever they are.

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