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AI Implosion: How AI Skynets Itself.
5 min read
Sabine Hossenfelder, in a new video put out that the more people use Artificial Intelligence to generate new content, the more Artificial Intelligence will keep getting fed its own content the less varied content will keep coming out. Basically, it's like watching something huff its own farts for inspiration. Nowadays, it takes a lot of trainers to train AI so that it keeps producing different results. Yet, in reality, the more people get taught how to use AI, the more they flood the different areas with automated content. The easier it is to stand out.
Sabine's video: https://youtu.be/NcH7fHtqGYM
I don't know if saying this would make anyone happy or sad. My favorite AI thing had been the cocaine birds or playing with the AI RPG's to make messed-up games. The other thing I keep in mind is that art movements go through cycles. Human-made art had its deconstruction phase. Sometimes, it's still in a deconstruction phase. AI Art develops faster than a kid learning how to walk. I often wonder what an AI Art deconstruction is going to look like. Will people be nostalgic for the nightmare fuel videos that look uncannily off? Or will it be an AI generated version of watching someone do some bizarre thingy in an art gallery? Janky art just for janky art's sake until the artist bologna bards some deep hidden message for . . . Whatever it is.
I can't be sure. Even though I went to art school, had years in computer tech experience, and also have been a bit of a self-taught artist since before art school. I see AI as a thing. I ask it dumb questions, and it's very easy to gaslight. In fact, you take character prompts from one generator, stick it in another generator, and don't even have to think. It's the most smooth brained tool I ever played with.
Another thing I learned about the AI's is you can mine them for information to make your own stuff. I used the AI to make a recipe for Fanta flavored sugar cookies. Then, I fixed the recipe to my liking. You can even mine them for the templates the AI trainers use. Just ask it questions.
What I really don't like about AI is how lazy it all gets after a bit. It also reveals more information about their customer base than it does about useful knowledge. Novel AI has been used for some really weird kinks for the romantically lonely and derogatorily horny. When that AI breaks it has a small chance of turning what you ask of it into a sex scene. This has been used for a couple joke books called The Butt Steak Deal and Robomancer: Stupid Romances Written by an Idiot. You can check them out here. They are funny books but rated only for ages eighteen and up. Click at your own peril.
Robomancer: https://a.co/65iA3iq
Buttsteak: https://a.co/gI44RO5
Though another legal issue that might come out of these AI generators is the convergent thinking will kind of kill the AI's ability to make sure everyone gets something unique or it will advise exactly as how it's been taught. New York did a customer service AI to handle incoming callers, and it's encouraged small businesses to do crimes. Styxhexenhammer666 did a good video on it.
Styxhexenhammer666: https://youtu.be/8FtvtH4PQI0
New York Times is also suing ChatGPT for using its articals as training. I have New York Times Article here.
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/27/business/media/new-york-times-open-ai-microsoft-lawsuit.html
They are having a copyright battle enfringement. The thing is AI can't get sued because anything it creates can't get sued for. The only people who can get sued are the trainers and the makers. Which leads me to another thing.
. . . AI Art has paywalls. They’ll probably get higher. It's no different then an Adobe Creative Suites rental fee and there are many, many different kinds of art generators.
Some companies are also using AI to translate Manga since some localizers started bragging about sneaking their personal, hamfisted politics into the subs and dubs of different products. The companies kind of allow this as long as it's on the down low. However, the AI's in the long run help cut out a lot of work that would usually harm someone's physical health or eyesight. Eyestrain and sitting in a chair all day can harm a back but tech is usually trained in the office before it gets sent out into the field. This is why it usually ends up replacing jobs like writing or art.
On the other hand, a well prepared artist is a weaponized artist. I'm not a fan of the ethical problems of AI Art. Hence, I market my human-made art instead. When the market gets flooded by everything that looks the same. It helps to market something that is unique. The only time I've seen AI become useful has been helping with the data bits and if it's cut off from any outside sources. On the other end, creating your own art without AI is faster. It's more involved but easier to work with because you're not waiting for a generated object. You're making your own thing that's easier to defend because you own the intellectual property that is defended as best as can be by the pictures in that country.
That's all I have. I wrote this journal for eductational purposes. Things change a lot. Sometimes change sucks. It helps to have a little knowledge on hand to navigate the weird and the wonderful.
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Has anyone ever been scared about something you put blood sweat and tears into getting stolen out from under them? My mind wanders when I'm walking from place to place and this thought looped on repeat where my brain kept getting scared things would get worse and worse. I've had things stolen from me. Lots of things. The paranoia never really goes away. It snatches you up in their clutches and makes it hard to feel . . . safe. If distance makes the heart grow fonder than I am so in love with the distance between the thief and I to the level of a security blankie to hide under.
Stealing is easy, too easy really. I met a shoplifter who had her shopping basket bulging with clothes and she was grabbing a backpack to put all the stuff she didn't want to pay for. Her mother was even in the getaway vehicle outside the store. One small problem, I volunteer at the thrift store and the front desk is in full view of the whole shop. My colleague told me to watch out for this girl. By then, she was stuffing toys down you don't want to know where. She was acting really weird, even for a regular. The backpack she was going to haul her stolen goodies was of course on sale and she was going to have to take it to the cashier to buy and haul off her booty.
My colleague told me to keep an eye on her because she was acting suspicious. I didn't know what she looked like. Shoplifters can be ordinary people, so can customers. I didn't want to go up to random strangers asking if they'd seen this girl. I didn't want to accidentally ask her if she'd seen this "suspicious person." I went straight to my boss to ask where this young lady was.
Problem #2: I didn't know what she looked like and could only describe her by her actions right in front of the dressing room and the employees only door.
"Have you seen this woman who's been stuffing her basket like a thanksgiving day turkey and I don't know what to do with her," I blurted out, politely I might add but I can't always gauge how I come off to others, "Her basket's overflowing with goods, and clothes, to the point I think she'll break her back if she heaves any more crud."
Now mind you, our store is small with an open floor gift shop of Fair Trade imports leading to four rows of thrift store goods in isles twice as wide as a supermodel. This slip of a girl was a walking roadblock with her back breaking burden hanging off one arm. Money from our store gets donated to charity. Money not given to charity goes back to the store. People of all ages, sizes, backgrounds and what have yous love coming to our store with color coded discounts and the wide variety of stuff donated by charitable people. Robbing from this place is literally stealing from the church since it is run by the Mennonites, and staffed by loving members of the Retired Senior Volunteer Program. Not to mention until 2016 I was the youngest member of this program and still look like a college student in a nerdy shirt and sweatpants. The only place we hadn't checked yet was the dressing room.
In the end, our thief revealed herself in hen pecked huff. In my stupidity I thought, no wonder she needs so many clothes. Her bum and bust line was threatening to snap that spray painted on outfit of hers like a rubber band. If her girdle, squeezed in by spaghetti straps, hadn't been tucked in then her body was threatening to muffin top in a vain effort to breathe.
"You're rude," sassed the thief in a nasally Oh-no-you-didn't voice. She slammed the shopping basket on the cashier desk. You might as well drop the mic but it lost its impact because everyone already saw her and didn't give a flying fig. Even my boss was standing there watching her turn up her nose.
That's when I realized I talked about her behind her back, in front of everyone, by the dressing room, and I thought I was trying to be discreet. Ah-ha! So that's where she went! Then Ew! That's where she went! The back room, dressing room, and the swinging doors are attached to the same thin wall and my voice carries when I'm passionate about something even small things like being helpful. She left a mess.
"I'm never shopping here again!" she griped and stalked home to her mother who probably liked shopping there.
The only thing squeaking in protest were her pants.
In the end, her "shopping" included one or two stolen pencil toys. Her jiggly endowments were the only things baggy enough to stuff them in and the kid she handed them to asked her why they were all salty and wet. Probably threw them away because they went down a crack. None of the sets were pulled apart. Her backpack was stuffed with expensive shopping goods. However her haul was small and she just worked 13x harder to be lazy instead of paying for the whole stinking pile. I felt much better knowing she was a jerk instead of nice which made it easier not to care.
Stealing is easy nowadays, from copy and paste to downloading another person's hard work and changing the author's title. Anyone can steal but the more effort you put into putting off working on your own skills the bigger the burden weighing down our hard work basket. It's hard to think that working hard actually takes less work but it's true. I mean bases take forever for me to use but I can make thumbs look like actual thumbs and not bloated chicken drumsticks with benefits. I can draw nudes better so that the clothes look right. I can actually draw stuff from memory. Okay real credit goes to the numerous How to Draw Manga Books, six years of college, and four years pouring over art books in the public library and I can't say I was never lazy but the hard work pays off and losing all that hard work is like losing the legs you worked on for years.
I know people didn't come here for a story but I want to make my content worth my viewers time and I can't do that if I don't take credit for my work. Same with a lot of people who worry about art theft, copyright theft or other stuff. Most of the accounts get shut down so here's some tips and pointers from people wiser than me.
"If all else fails," Dad shrugged, "Take it up with God. When you've hit rock bottom the least you can do is float back uptop."
He got that advice from Dave Ramsey's YouTube.
"What?" Dad quips, "Accountants can be creative too."
Stealing is easy, too easy really. I met a shoplifter who had her shopping basket bulging with clothes and she was grabbing a backpack to put all the stuff she didn't want to pay for. Her mother was even in the getaway vehicle outside the store. One small problem, I volunteer at the thrift store and the front desk is in full view of the whole shop. My colleague told me to watch out for this girl. By then, she was stuffing toys down you don't want to know where. She was acting really weird, even for a regular. The backpack she was going to haul her stolen goodies was of course on sale and she was going to have to take it to the cashier to buy and haul off her booty.
My colleague told me to keep an eye on her because she was acting suspicious. I didn't know what she looked like. Shoplifters can be ordinary people, so can customers. I didn't want to go up to random strangers asking if they'd seen this girl. I didn't want to accidentally ask her if she'd seen this "suspicious person." I went straight to my boss to ask where this young lady was.
Problem #2: I didn't know what she looked like and could only describe her by her actions right in front of the dressing room and the employees only door.
"Have you seen this woman who's been stuffing her basket like a thanksgiving day turkey and I don't know what to do with her," I blurted out, politely I might add but I can't always gauge how I come off to others, "Her basket's overflowing with goods, and clothes, to the point I think she'll break her back if she heaves any more crud."
Now mind you, our store is small with an open floor gift shop of Fair Trade imports leading to four rows of thrift store goods in isles twice as wide as a supermodel. This slip of a girl was a walking roadblock with her back breaking burden hanging off one arm. Money from our store gets donated to charity. Money not given to charity goes back to the store. People of all ages, sizes, backgrounds and what have yous love coming to our store with color coded discounts and the wide variety of stuff donated by charitable people. Robbing from this place is literally stealing from the church since it is run by the Mennonites, and staffed by loving members of the Retired Senior Volunteer Program. Not to mention until 2016 I was the youngest member of this program and still look like a college student in a nerdy shirt and sweatpants. The only place we hadn't checked yet was the dressing room.
In the end, our thief revealed herself in hen pecked huff. In my stupidity I thought, no wonder she needs so many clothes. Her bum and bust line was threatening to snap that spray painted on outfit of hers like a rubber band. If her girdle, squeezed in by spaghetti straps, hadn't been tucked in then her body was threatening to muffin top in a vain effort to breathe.
"You're rude," sassed the thief in a nasally Oh-no-you-didn't voice. She slammed the shopping basket on the cashier desk. You might as well drop the mic but it lost its impact because everyone already saw her and didn't give a flying fig. Even my boss was standing there watching her turn up her nose.
That's when I realized I talked about her behind her back, in front of everyone, by the dressing room, and I thought I was trying to be discreet. Ah-ha! So that's where she went! Then Ew! That's where she went! The back room, dressing room, and the swinging doors are attached to the same thin wall and my voice carries when I'm passionate about something even small things like being helpful. She left a mess.
"I'm never shopping here again!" she griped and stalked home to her mother who probably liked shopping there.
The only thing squeaking in protest were her pants.
In the end, her "shopping" included one or two stolen pencil toys. Her jiggly endowments were the only things baggy enough to stuff them in and the kid she handed them to asked her why they were all salty and wet. Probably threw them away because they went down a crack. None of the sets were pulled apart. Her backpack was stuffed with expensive shopping goods. However her haul was small and she just worked 13x harder to be lazy instead of paying for the whole stinking pile. I felt much better knowing she was a jerk instead of nice which made it easier not to care.
Stealing is easy nowadays, from copy and paste to downloading another person's hard work and changing the author's title. Anyone can steal but the more effort you put into putting off working on your own skills the bigger the burden weighing down our hard work basket. It's hard to think that working hard actually takes less work but it's true. I mean bases take forever for me to use but I can make thumbs look like actual thumbs and not bloated chicken drumsticks with benefits. I can draw nudes better so that the clothes look right. I can actually draw stuff from memory. Okay real credit goes to the numerous How to Draw Manga Books, six years of college, and four years pouring over art books in the public library and I can't say I was never lazy but the hard work pays off and losing all that hard work is like losing the legs you worked on for years.
I know people didn't come here for a story but I want to make my content worth my viewers time and I can't do that if I don't take credit for my work. Same with a lot of people who worry about art theft, copyright theft or other stuff. Most of the accounts get shut down so here's some tips and pointers from people wiser than me.
- Honesty is the best policy: When it comes to thievery or handling someone as snippy as our basket breaker it's hard to come off as rude. No one likes to be accused of stuff. However, evidence is needed to show the accuser knows that what they did was wrong. Paper trails, evidence you can take to court even if you can't afford a lawyer without kickstarter, and all the legal tools at your disposal are open to thieves as well such as blocking users for no reason or accusing someone innocent of fraud. Building a good rapport by treating others with respect actually gets more people to defend your case versus their case. One example off the top of my head, Magpiepony almost lost an undertale song to another user who dubbed the song in russian than accused the original creator of copyright theft. Bad idea. Magpiepony genuinely makes great content through hard work and earned quite a few fans for her hard work. The other account got nuked when the audience, hundreds to one reported her for abusing the system and sent her several heated messages by the thousands. That's a big crime that reflected badly and lost her everything as far as I could if I remember the case right and the act the kid almost got away with had woke quite the metaphorical den of sleeping bears.
- Be well Informed: You never know what goes on behind the scenes and can get caught in the middle of a drama. My first commission was a disaster and it was all over a bunch of fairies. The client was also a sweet old lady that I didn't know was actually known to be a butt pain. She commissioned artists for specific things than took credit for their work until you did something wrong then I lost $600 for being as she called it "a bilking cheater" I was the one doing all the work and she wanted originals. If we were to redo the interaction I'd have been a petty brat and sketched her the middle finger. Luckily my Mom was the one who did the mediating or I'd have done something I regret. At least I still have all of my friends, she drove even her granddaughter away by stealing her art. No one speaks to the old lady anymore. Lesson to take home is to know the laws and where to apply them. artlawjournal.com/ This website is a blessing. Also book publisher websites. Mark Dawson on youtube has been a book cover designer for several years and has insightful info about the industries. Sometimes catching a livestream with an artist can be revealing or watching a vid. TwistedDisaster and Chaos55t come to mind. Nowadays I try not to become what I have encountered but my first client taught me forgiveness is theraupeutic and nothing peeves them off more than being nice.
- Make it hard: Not everything is preventable, stupid happens, but there are tons of ways to make it harder than Hades for them to make you an easy target. Baban
- If you don't want your work shared. Then there are a couple things you can click. The Download checkbox on subbmitted deviations can be shut off. So can this other feature.
Helpful TipsThis journal is a collection of tips and tricks to know copying vs stealing vs referencing vs inspiration
and how to report an underage deviant, and how to reverse image search something when it's been stolen and you dont know who made it!
When someone's ocs are stolen, it's 75% likely that it's because SOMEONE shared their art to pinterest/instagram/whatever. Whether to be 'adopted' out to people or just shared all over that horrid website.
Here's an example;
This oc is stolen a lot
And what do you know, it's spread ALL OVER pinterest.
The reason it's stolen a lot is because pinterest is a website meant for sharing and people will take shit off of there because there's no artist' rules or anything besides 'sources' but barely ANYONE checks those.
Here's the original btw- (you'll notice it's only linked once in the above picture, and it is NOT the first link that pops up if you search the image :/ thanks google - The other website I'd recommend is Myows (myows.com/) or other sites that can help take down duplicate pictures while keeping a record of the original content Myows is a legit site, customer service is quick and friendly. Deviantart's help desk gets flooded with thousands of art theft reports and that's why they want the owner of the stolen artwork to be the one to report it because then they could do something which isn't much.. Sometimes lots of these thefts go under the DMCA radar and sometimes the lesson doesn't hit home.
Meh?If you're not interesting in reading this sort of junk, believe me I wouldn't want to either, feel free to ignore this journal, same old, same old
This particular case study took some effort to stop tracing but . . . still steals stuff on Deviantart and I later found out that in order to take down any stolen thing off of Tumblr you have to have them reported three times but one hundred dcma takedown notices can destroy a whole website. A poor content creator got her original music flushed down the lou along with her Tumblr when this happened and with it her portfolio. (www.dailydot.com/parsec/tumblr…) However this happened when the DCMA first got put out there. With the one fanart that went to my Tumblr and stuff that got posted all over reddit I put my online handle somewhere or at least my signature so that no matter where it gets blogged it will link back to me unless someone works really hard to be lazy but yeah.
this is what happens when I leave her alone
I don't think she's even trying this time, but since she's on a different site she thinks she can get away with it I guess? 
forgot one
I'm mature lol besides I'm not even stealing since I'm the one that made this design in the first place right?...eh, I don't even care at this point
one more, sorry I'm being petty, it's really therapeutic XD 
<<Weis has a different watermark in the second pic. However it was nice the reblogger asked my permission first before I put it on Tumblr. That needs to happen more often.- Flies with Honey approach: Styles can't be stolen but copying them can hurt creativity in the long run. Everyone draws a little differently even if they draw the same Sailor Moon or carefully reline a base but tracing, ripping off other people's pictures/resources, and witch hunts or at least harrassing users doesn't stop the act or stop it from going viral. In fact it's time consuming. That's why I don't post alot of journals like this.
"If all else fails," Dad shrugged, "Take it up with God. When you've hit rock bottom the least you can do is float back uptop."
He got that advice from Dave Ramsey's YouTube.
"What?" Dad quips, "Accountants can be creative too."
- I found the clip, from a cartoon, but it really shows how the Sugar and Honey approach beats salt and vinegar approach seven times out of ten. Credit goes to Miraculous Ladybug. Spoiler alert, they'll get to be superhero teammates in the next season of the show. Some people are wondering "What the Fudgies! why?!" Others are squeeing, especially chloe fans. I'm thinking the writing is going to be interesting. Especially since Chloe is both a ladybug fangirl and hates Miranette. It's like a chocolatier having a love/hate relationship with strawberry mouse.
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Grievances and Updates
6 min read
Grievances
If anyone has been looking through my journal entries the first thing you might find is I update every once in a blue moon. By the time I got around to posting a new Journal entry so much has happened since the last journal entry. I got my Bachelor's of Arts Degree, hooray! Not to mention my Associates of Arts degree, people have been asking me locally to do commissions. I'd been hunting for a job. It's really sad when a simple application to be turned into a restaurant has been unfortunately a cause for celebration for a whole different reason.
My mother calls her mother over the phone and while we all like our privacy living with one's parents until one is back on their feet leads to all kinds of observations. First one being the lack of privacy in a not so sound proofed house. My mom is up at the crack of dawn doing her bible story. The guinea pig in my room squeals for baby greens at exactly six thirty A.M. I couldn't help but hear this conversation while just getting out of bed and unfortunately everything is heard especially when the distance between us is always in hearing range.
My mother swore up and down it was going to storm that I filled out an application. The World was going to end and the conversation was a combo between bristling my feathers and making me feel like I was intruding. Job hunting is one of those normal details even though I'd been specific to avoid jobs that included scrubbing toilets and jobs that could usurp all of my time for commissions. Going full time freelancing doesn't make as much money unless I have a big customer base, which I don't. I need the job to be able to pay for rent and save up to move into my own place.
My dad happily announced, "If you don't get a job we'll move you and all of us to the big city! . . . In six months."
My dad calls hyperventilating in place a panic attack. In reality I go walk to the bathroom, splash some water on my face and come back responding, "Wait . . . What?"
The popular concept among my family is saying that I freak out about everything. Any small change is a cue for an anxiety attack. That I should share my feelings more often and quit shouting because they expect an over-emotional mess when in reality I don't know how to respond to them making life changing decisions and dragging me along with them. They plan to retire and their life is their business. Also this unspoken rule that everyone is supposed to know what everyone else is talking about is a load of bull when maybe not everyone wants to air all the dirty laundry.
I should know. I've had my own fair share of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time which has lately been too often. We really need some time apart.
Moving away is a big deal especially when running a business albeit a small but fun business. I'd just after twenty years of trial and error have managed to find out how to establish professional relationships. It sickens me that to even get insurance I'd have to be one of two extremes an employed washout who has no "first time job" or an unemployed loser when I know there are people out there in my boat who have less than I do and still have to jump hoops because Department of blah-blah-insert-government-name-here says so.
Living with my parents is just as tension building as I remember it. I love my parents. I love spending time apart from them. I have done many small favors for them. I have even tried to hold conversations with them that often end in an etiquette disaster. Those are my fault but my big mouth and I express two different thought processes none the less.
What sounds cooler? A college graduate who is working on a web comic and writes books or an unemployed thirty something quitter who moved away because she never had what society calls "A real job." I might just cow myself out of doing something great but I'm not a quitter. Ideas change, realities often stink but dreams are never going out of fashion if my pig-headed determination has any say about it.
This isn't one of the happy-happy journal entries. I did want to let viewers know that there will be some times I will not be able to always get in contact if this move becomes more official than it already is. This would mean that contact and communication would be very limited. My Dad likes to reorganize everything on a daily basis making finding a spot left undisturbed to send an e-mail very hard. They have plans to retire in a gated community and unfortunately a third wheel is the last thing I want to be.
On a lighter note I want to end this journal entry on some good news. I am so happy about how many people have loved this one piece of work I did.
It has been the first piece I've ever had that has ever had a triple digit number of favorites. It tickles me so joyously that people love this piece. My phone, with the deviantart app, has been ringing off the hook so much that it sounded like Mario and Luigi continously smashing that one coin making brick repeatedly after drinking one too many energy drinks. Thanks for the fav and you guys are wonderful!
I have commission rules and information on a separate journal entry.
Please have a wonderful time.
Sincerely,
HumbleMarty
. . .
If anyone has been looking through my journal entries the first thing you might find is I update every once in a blue moon. By the time I got around to posting a new Journal entry so much has happened since the last journal entry. I got my Bachelor's of Arts Degree, hooray! Not to mention my Associates of Arts degree, people have been asking me locally to do commissions. I'd been hunting for a job. It's really sad when a simple application to be turned into a restaurant has been unfortunately a cause for celebration for a whole different reason.
My mother calls her mother over the phone and while we all like our privacy living with one's parents until one is back on their feet leads to all kinds of observations. First one being the lack of privacy in a not so sound proofed house. My mom is up at the crack of dawn doing her bible story. The guinea pig in my room squeals for baby greens at exactly six thirty A.M. I couldn't help but hear this conversation while just getting out of bed and unfortunately everything is heard especially when the distance between us is always in hearing range.
My mother swore up and down it was going to storm that I filled out an application. The World was going to end and the conversation was a combo between bristling my feathers and making me feel like I was intruding. Job hunting is one of those normal details even though I'd been specific to avoid jobs that included scrubbing toilets and jobs that could usurp all of my time for commissions. Going full time freelancing doesn't make as much money unless I have a big customer base, which I don't. I need the job to be able to pay for rent and save up to move into my own place.
My dad happily announced, "If you don't get a job we'll move you and all of us to the big city! . . . In six months."
My dad calls hyperventilating in place a panic attack. In reality I go walk to the bathroom, splash some water on my face and come back responding, "Wait . . . What?"
The popular concept among my family is saying that I freak out about everything. Any small change is a cue for an anxiety attack. That I should share my feelings more often and quit shouting because they expect an over-emotional mess when in reality I don't know how to respond to them making life changing decisions and dragging me along with them. They plan to retire and their life is their business. Also this unspoken rule that everyone is supposed to know what everyone else is talking about is a load of bull when maybe not everyone wants to air all the dirty laundry.
I should know. I've had my own fair share of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time which has lately been too often. We really need some time apart.
Moving away is a big deal especially when running a business albeit a small but fun business. I'd just after twenty years of trial and error have managed to find out how to establish professional relationships. It sickens me that to even get insurance I'd have to be one of two extremes an employed washout who has no "first time job" or an unemployed loser when I know there are people out there in my boat who have less than I do and still have to jump hoops because Department of blah-blah-insert-government-name-here says so.
Living with my parents is just as tension building as I remember it. I love my parents. I love spending time apart from them. I have done many small favors for them. I have even tried to hold conversations with them that often end in an etiquette disaster. Those are my fault but my big mouth and I express two different thought processes none the less.
What sounds cooler? A college graduate who is working on a web comic and writes books or an unemployed thirty something quitter who moved away because she never had what society calls "A real job." I might just cow myself out of doing something great but I'm not a quitter. Ideas change, realities often stink but dreams are never going out of fashion if my pig-headed determination has any say about it.
This isn't one of the happy-happy journal entries. I did want to let viewers know that there will be some times I will not be able to always get in contact if this move becomes more official than it already is. This would mean that contact and communication would be very limited. My Dad likes to reorganize everything on a daily basis making finding a spot left undisturbed to send an e-mail very hard. They have plans to retire in a gated community and unfortunately a third wheel is the last thing I want to be.
On a lighter note I want to end this journal entry on some good news. I am so happy about how many people have loved this one piece of work I did.
It has been the first piece I've ever had that has ever had a triple digit number of favorites. It tickles me so joyously that people love this piece. My phone, with the deviantart app, has been ringing off the hook so much that it sounded like Mario and Luigi continously smashing that one coin making brick repeatedly after drinking one too many energy drinks. Thanks for the fav and you guys are wonderful!
I have commission rules and information on a separate journal entry.
Please have a wonderful time.
Sincerely,
HumbleMarty
. . .
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This month I've been drawing horses. The My Little Pony craze has been sweeping the nation in surprising places and the little toy I remembered playing with as a kid has made a comeback. I watched a couple episodes (which are really good by the way) on the series and got to wondering how in blue blazes a pony could pick up a tea cup with just a rounded hoof and no opposable thumbs? Or when Pinkie Pie is just flailing her front legs to the side just like a six month old baby swinging his/her arms. I imagine a real horse doing that and all that comes to mind is my dog when she has to roll all over the floor to itch her nose since for a real horse arm flailing would take all his chest muscles and swinging out his back to even do the same gestures Pinkie Pie did.
Pinkie Pie could probably invent her own arm flailing Olympics just for that.
Playing video games would also be an adventure. It would make playing the Sega Dreamcast or the Nintendo Gamecube a real challenge since the controller's major functions contain only knobs and teensy-weensy buttons but with four good legs a pony could be rocking the DDR machine like there was no tomorrow.
Imagining Pinkie Pie at an arcade kind of reminds me of the time I played skee ball.
Pinkie Pie could probably invent her own arm flailing Olympics just for that.
Playing video games would also be an adventure. It would make playing the Sega Dreamcast or the Nintendo Gamecube a real challenge since the controller's major functions contain only knobs and teensy-weensy buttons but with four good legs a pony could be rocking the DDR machine like there was no tomorrow.
Imagining Pinkie Pie at an arcade kind of reminds me of the time I played skee ball.
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Finals Week at College
1 min read
Long time no see, huh? For me this has been a long time. Art classes are labor intensive. I was so nervous I literally ran between Campus and here. Now I'm wondering why I packed Deodorant in my backpack when all I had on me were household items. Today is the first day in a long time that I actually feel coherent and I'm still hammering out stuff to be able to go to school next semester. I've been busy but I want to thank all the people who have come here, still come here, and enjoy my work.
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