Sleepychameleon Hangout v.3

It is a strange thing, after limiting myself for so many years to “just one endeavour” or a “single-minded pursuit of a goal” to suddenly open up to possibilities and then get a whole bunch of things dumped in my lap.

Chief among these is the (perhaps overdue) recognition that I do have latent artistic skills that have never been…nurtured, at least nowhere near the same way I have kicked and beaten and stabbed my writing ability into some passable form. And even that has been slow in coming. But within the last several weeks, a mere change in perspective has suddenly impacted the way I make choices about my life. This is not a bad thing, but a trifle jarring for someone like me whose goal has never been to forge my own life path, necessarily, but to find the shortcuts that will let me take the shortest and easiest way to the next destination.

I’ve never lacked for places to go, to continue to indulge in that overused metaphor, but I’ve always lacked the motivation to get there faster on a consistent basis. I’m easily distractable, hardly ever focused, prone to procrastination, and susceptible to basking in admiration and accolades for which, although earned comparatively to everyone else, are nowhere near the full measure of my capability. Call me Atalanta in Love. But recently, circumstances have changed. Existing obligations have reorganized themselves around new ones. Former projects are taking a back burner–the equivalent of moving something from “Projects” to “Someday/Maybe”, to use GTD-speak. (And yes, I refuse to abbreviate that S/M. I’m in San Francisco. That construction triggers different connotations to me.)

So now I find myself learning Photoshop skills on the fly, between cramming for school and trying to maintain some semblance of physical fitness. It’s self improvement of the strangest, sort, this “I need to do this, because I can” and the taking on of assignments in order to further my ability. This is probably a result of the last few years’ activities and introspection–I can probably point to specific reasons why I choose to do certain things, but there is nonetheless a strange sort of wonder whenever I complete an action that progresses exactly as I had intended it. One of the few perks of having low self-esteem: you never, ever, take anything for granted.

Re: Ursula Vernon’s sporadic “Elf v. Orc” illustrated (and episodic?) work-in-progress:

She has the same cantankerous muse that I do - attempts to force or cajole it into doing things makes it move slower, bolt in random (generally opposite) directions, and stand stock still refusing to go anyplace you’d want to lead it.

Some people have wise owls for a muse, or gossamer-winged fae, or perhaps particularly-clever ferrets. Other people are stuck with the muse-mule. And really, the best way to get a mule to go someplace is to get one that knows the way already, sit on it, and wait.

–drakkenmaw, over at Ursula Vernon’s Livejournal.

And this is why I’m not a professional writer.

Carrie Fisher signing, originally uploaded by sleepychameleon.

Ok, long overdue, but I’ve been busy. So sue me. (And prepared to get your ass handed back to you on a silver platter with a bill for attorney’s fees. Whut?)

This photo is unpolished in Photoshop, straight from the CF card to pixelprint! Although I do believe it could use some cropping.

Did catch a good moment, though. Two profiles, two different expressions (does this bring to mind Alan Rickman in Galaxy Quest?)….Check out the photostream for the sequel.