Better pictures will soon follow, but after three days of working on them I can’t wait to post something.
The oil version of yesterday’s drawing is prettier than the original, but it was more difficult to find the right words for it. I wrote several texts for this image, but all of them were too serious for a fairytale script. I finally settled for this one. See you in a month or so (Nanowrimo starts in two days.)
This peacefully blue, albeit nonsensical piece will be the last one for a while. Nanowrimo is just around the corner, I’m still working with my editor on Prince of War, and I should also be finishing the drawings for the kids book. Between writing, editing, and hopefully drawing nothing else will be accomplished. Meanwhile, Nero managed to jump on the kitchen counter and ate the dental treats we put in a plastic bag… Have a great Monday, everybody.
Going to paint this pumpkin, but couldn’t help to have some fun with it first.
The Big Mystery of Fall 2012
All the possibilities! Stay tuned for the big reveal.
Still fighting the cold, I’m now calling it what it is: futile résistance. Next stage, more or less organized revolution. Finally, fully embraced anarchy. Despite headaches akin to migraines and the inflammation of the trigeminal nerves, I wrote a striking 1k words every day for the last four days. I know it doesn’t sound worth declaring to all and sundry, but I’m not a sprinter. I’m the epitome of a marathon runner. Slow but consistent. Regarding today’s snippet, I couldn’t decided which portion was better suited to stand alone, so I kind of blindly picked. Several time… Then I decided to post the snippet that gave more information.
Allegra squinted and saw the upper corner of a doorjamb behind a big framed painting portraying some hunting scene—from what she could see of it since it was partially covered by two bookcases. She passed a series of coffee tables covered in books and statuettes, and even climbed over one to reach the other side . Finally, she squeezed between the door and the painting and entered the kitchen, where she spotted the person who had caused the noises and found it was no person after all.
“Kingstone!” Julius outstretched arms welcomed a small beagle who had apparently been gorging himself on what was left inside the oven.
She took notice of how the smell of baked goods wafted in and out of her radar depending on the dog’s mouth being open or not. “That explains why the scent was so fickle.”
“What are you looking at?”
“Just the oven—” She realized he was neither talking to her nor looking through her eyes and turned to face the wall the beagle was now barking at. Kingstone had started without warning, a low growl coming from inside his belly and getting more and more anxious until he leaped out of Julius’s embrace and ran back to the landing.
“Allegra…?” He seemed helpless for a just a moment, but she hated that immensely.
“Here.” She took his hand in hers and automatically pointed her nose after the beagle.
“Can you feel anything?”
“I’m afraid Kingstone was the only sentient being around.” She tried to focus on her sense of smell and shut down all the others, but she had the feeling if anybody was out there he or she must look like the street urchin they had just encountered at her house. And she wasn’t ready to face another of those blank stares and the horrors hidden behind them.
They still made a summary look-around, but were outside in the alley a few minutes later.
“At least we now know that whatever is happening here, animals are immune to it.” Allegra didn’t know if it was important or not, but she needed to say something.
Julius was lost in his thoughts and led the rest of the way to his house in complete silence.
Still, it was too good to discard the recipe. Next time, I’ll find a dairy-free substitute for the infamous almond filling.
What I had in the pantry:
Half cup Coconut oil (warmed to a liquid state)
1 Can Almond Filling (unfortunately coming with milk)
2 Cups and 1 quarter cup of Gluten Free Pantry Old Fashioned Cake & Cookie Mix
Half teaspoon salt
1 Quarter cup of water
How I made the almond cake:
I threw all the ingredients in the KitchenAid bowl and let it go at slow speed until the mix looked nice (don’t you love how scientific I am?) Greased a Bundt pan with the coconut oil, poured the cake batter in it, and let it cook for 50 minutes at 350F (as usual, take the data as purely indicative, since my oven isn’t great.) The cake is particularly good as soon as out of the oven. I’m sorry to report that the next day it loses part of its mystique, perfume, and flavor. It must be the sneaky milk ruining it for everybody. Fortunately, the cake was eaten almost entirely five minutes after it landed on the kitchen table. Must report I wasn’t alone.
And this is what you eventually make with lemons and lemonades. Or, at least, this is what I made with yesterday’s drawing.
Still under the weather. Last week flu has progressed into a long-lasting cold. Outside the window, fall is in full swing, leaves have found their final resting places on the ground, and the oranges, yellows, and reds have relocated with them. Still, lots of green left standing and with them my hope the universe will re-align itself for my sake.
From X, Julius decides to take a shortcut through one of Cartaghena’s most talked-about neighborhoods:
Before some of the buildings—the more colorful ones—elaborated signs waved from their poles, some of them sporting cut-outs figurines self-explanatory of the kind of services offered by the establishment. Others were just paintings. Allegra saw a cute rendition of an embraced couple and blushed, her eyes went to the curtained windows and she wondered what happened behind them.
“I was never there. I was told great things about the owner though,” Julius commented.
She opened her mouth, but words failed her and couldn’t help to turn to take a look at him.
He arched his brow, lips turned up in a smile. “You were dying to ask me that.”
“Was not.” She faced the street again.
“I told you I was with a friend.”
“She wouldn’t have been happy if I had gone visiting those places.”
“Oh, that kind of friend.” She wondered—and not in kind terms—about that unknown girl who had been free to visit such a neighborhood. At night and with a boy.
“She used to live… right there.” He moved her to face a small cottage on the far left.
“Charming.” She knew Julius was a few years older than her, but she didn’t like he had much more experience. Especially if the way he had obtained such experience hadn’t had anything to do with her. She tried to rationalize her emotions with the fact that guide and guided shared a special bond, but her voice had betrayed something different and she hated it.
“Lucilla’s dad was a renowned painter and her mom was his favorite model. Maybe you saw some of his portraits—” Julius kept her looking at the cottage.
Awful name. “Highly doubt so.” She moved and for a moment they lost contact. Sometimes, she did that on purpose. She wasn’t sure this time whose eyes she was blinding.