ALERT! ALERT! THIS IS IMPORTANT!

I learned in geology class today that acid rain is EATING marble statues and temples and other VERY IMPORTANT AND IRREPLACEABLE THINGS! We can't afford to let them get eaten! They're broken up enough as it is! GAH!

I am very concerned about this. I can't even enjoy my ice cream.

Coincidentally, I am also taking Greek Art and Mythology class this term, so my awareness of the importance and beauty of these statues and temples is at an all time high. 

Apparently in some places covers are being built over things to protect them - but it seems like bailing out a sailboat with a teaspoon. According to Wikipedia there's also a thing called stone sealer that could be used to protect stuff, but I have to wonder how much stone sealer it would take to cover, say, all the buildings on the acropolis. 

Obviously, the only solution left to us is to stop driving cars, using cows and breathing.  It's for an extremely good cause, so comfort yourself with that.  In time you won't even miss any of it. 

Painty clothes and bruised knees, essentially.

It's been too long.  I feel an agonizingly long-winded UPDATE ON MY LIFE twitching in my finger tips! Can't... can't!  Too laaaaate!

So.

Hello, my name is Kelsey.

I am 22 years old.  I go to college, which is fun about 57% of the time.  I think that's not a bad percentage, really. Lately I have been making things like suits made of dried-out sanitizing wipes and fake wooden moose heads (like the sort hunters mount on their walls after they've, uh, shot them.)
This is art, apparently.

(This shoe made of wire is art also, from what I understand.)

Recently I realized that I will never make good art if I try to force myself to be all serious and deep about it.  I like funny things. And if, by some chance, the stuff I make gives somebody else a laugh... well, I can't think of a reaction I'd enjoy more. 

One of the weirdest things that's kind of happened, and which I have not even mentioned here, is that basically I rock climb now. 

See? That's me a few months ago. Climbing (not particularly well, but climbing) at a fancy schmancy gym in St. Louis. 

I never would have imagined that someday I'd get into this sport. Heck, I didn't know it was a sport. 

But I think I can consider myself into it. I have shoes and a harness and a chalk bag and a carabiner from when my dad climbed in the 80's that makes a horrible "skree" sound every time you open and close it (and, as a result, is never actually used).  I'm getting better at it. I go at least three times a week when I can.  I rattle off jargon. It's bizarre. Mainly because I'm, quite honestly, a deeply lazy person.  

I think one of the key factors in the quite miraculous way I've stuck with climbing, besides that it's not competitive and doesn't require spandex, is that climbers are fantastic. And when I say "fantastic" I mean WEIRD.  Climbing is kind of a fringe sport, and so it seems to attract the oddest array of characters. At the local gym I climb at, we have a 16-year-old yoga instructor (who only began yoga because he broke his back playing serious football), a linguistics-anthropology major who talks like a moronic surfer, and a 40 year-old Frenchman named Jose.  Basically, it's marvelous.  I'm becoming intimately acquainted with the "lower leisure class" as my boyfriend calls them - people who work just enough to fund weekly trips to climbing areas and the purchasing of gear. They're a remarkably happy lot. 

And it seems to be doing me some good. Besides climbing with a fair amount of frequency and going vegan a few weeks ago, I've changed nothing, and I've lost 20-ish pounds.  Today I wore pants I haven't fitted into since I was 15. They were a little tight, but it was worth it. 

SO! That's where I've been lately. It's been very, very good. 

What about you, mate? 

No Nose-Picking

A little ways back, I was in an art rut.   I was whining.  I said I didn't think I could do it, blah blah blah. But! Jessica suggested a project to do that would make me feel better. And guess what?  I did it! And it did make me feel better.

This is a cruddy screen-shot of the completed poster, but if anyone desires, I would be more than happy to send a high-quality PDF whizzing through space to their inbox. It's your typical poster size - 18x24, if I recall correctly.

The lesson to learn from this:
I SHOULD WHINE ALL THE TIME!  Commenting makes people feel good (which means I should do it more often, because I often want to and don't) and can help them more than you'd think.

Seriously,

Okay, I have to shriek for a second.

Why, why, WHY did I never go to Comic-Con when I actually LIVED in San Diego?!  WHY? I lived there for forever!  GAAAAAAAA!

Thanks for listening, blog.

Brett Helquist went to BYU

Apparently, if I want to become a great illustrator or animator, I have to go to BYU.  Because EVERYBODY went to BYU.  About half of the freakishly cool artist blogs I follow belong to people who went to or are going to BYU.  It a shame that going to BYU would be, um, rather awkward for me.   I would like to have such great drawing skills.
OH MY GOSH!  EVEN NAPOLEON CAME FROM BYU! BYU alumni are taking over the world and making it cool! Agh!

I like to say BYU and use exclamation points! I'm going to go read something now! Good night!

Gee whiz

I love E. H. Shepard's illustrations.

Blog, meet Charles Harper.  Like, the coolest guy ever.

HOLY MOLY!

I have had, like, an awesome couple of days.  Wanna know why, blog?  Huh?  Do you?
1. Because Pomplamoose gets cooler by the second (that started happening yesterday, and the coolness has been increasing exponentially since then).
and
2. Because, via their website, Pomplamoose introduced me to Marc Johns.  I'm probably the only person on earth who didn't know about him (I tend to be the not-in-the-know person quite often) but I'm going to do some mad posting anyways.  Because how cool is this:

I mean... rad.

"Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania."

Angela Barret's beautiful illustrations for the Random House Book of Shakespeare Stories.  Poured over them endlessly at age ten - and now I adore Shakespeare at twenty.  I think there's a definite cause and effect there!