Inside my Sketchbook: Terrifying Dali-Masked Male Ballerinas In Tutus

Want to see a performance that’s halfway between Cirque Du Soleil and the most fucked thing you’ve ever seen? Try La Verite!

It has all the Dali-masked ballerinas in tutus you could ever need. There are also people in giant rhino heads, enormous dandelions, trapeze artists, and a goddamn terrifying doll controlled by men in all black.

Lots of great nightmares to sketch.


Also on the drawing radar: the break room table. Sketching during lunch beats checking your email or Facebook (again).

Ugh, Facebook. I need a cleanse.


In response to questions you probably didn’t have:

1. No, I’ve never had sriracha before yesterday. I get on board with everything too late.

2. The only exception to my Whole30 diet is one of Liz’s tiny cupcakes a week. She makes these itsy-bitsy, dainty cupcakes from scratch and brings them in every Friday. They are very special.

3. I absolutely make lists of the dogs I pet in the street. The giant brindled English bulldog was at the post office. The doofy, slightly-greasy pug was on the sidewalk by a tiny subterranean Korean restaurant.

4. The pens/inks used were Bent Nib Jinhao w/Japanese Beautyberry, Hero 9315 w/Visconti Bordeaux, a vintage Pelikano w/Pelikan turquoise, and a vintage Sheaffer w/Private Reserve Ebony Purple. I use a lot of vintage fountain pens because I keep snapping them up at thrifts, antiques shops, flea markets, etc. I clean them out and re-fill them with blunt-nib syringes. Here are a few on Instagram.

5. I really do have a friend named Jiggy. (She insists her Korean birth name is unpronounceable.) She sits next to me and eats the healthiest stuff imaginable so she can continue being (literally) the strongest woman I know.


I draw her lunches in the vain hope that some of that healthiness will rub off on me.

My fountain pens are basically tiny barbells, right?

… Right?

Spring has sprung, and boy, do my lungs know it.

I haven’t posted in two weeks! Does this blog still exist?

(pokes Internet)

It does!

Hi, guys!

Your normal posting schedule (like, 2-3 times a week) will be resuming shortly.

My job’s been hopping, but, just as importantly, I have been hopping.


When you think “jock,” I know that I’m the thing that typically comes to mind. I can’t blame you.

Truth be told, I wheezed my way through both of these events (this spring is not fucking around).

But I shaved 8 minutes off my previous 5K time, and, more importantly, I did not die at either event. Nice try, pollen.


My spring flowers were mostly bulbs planted by the previous owners.

I guess between that and hitting bars with my beautiful visiting-from-Texas Ginger, you can stop filling out my sainthood application.

(Can we take a moment and discuss how I almost wrote “tainthood application”? And how my mom reads this blog? Sorry, Mom. If you don’t know what a “taint” is, do not Google it.)

But now I’m done with exercise for a while, and the plants are, for better or worse, in the ground, so I can settle back for illustration.

Here’s a sneak preview:

Screen Shot 2014-04-26 at 8.18.13 PM

I dare not say more.

We need to talk about the slime cube.

Back when people picked on me for being a nerd, I said defensively, “Well, at least I’m not one of those, you know, Dungeons and Dragons people.”

It’s always nice to have someone below you. (Please see chart at end of post.)

Alas. I have now joined the least cool kids.


Last Saturday was dreary, so I spent the afternoon with a large group of friends attacking the fuck out of some wolves and dragon-people and…


a giant slime cube or some shit.


(Cube image via source)

We need to talk about this slime cube. It was difficult to defeat; there was nothing behind it; and I will never, ever get that hour of my life back.


(Yeah. My character had a war pony. Jelly?)

On the whole, the experience was a little dry. It was a lot of rolling dice and consulting charts. Also, nobody knew what they were doing. The quest was meaningless and our introductory-level characters took forever to defeat really basic villains.

Which, of course, made me think: I could design one of these games and it would be better.

Like, there could be a haunted library, puzzles, plot twists, and monsters far cooler than a motherfucking gelatinous cube.


I don’t really care for the  fighting aspect. I want, like, literary references. And elves.

So I started drawing some concept art. Obviously. It’s how I deal with my problems, okay? 


I’m pretty excited about this. I just need victims test subjects friends to play through it.

Addendum: here’s that chart I was talking about. It doesn’t have role-players on it, but you get the idea.


Poor furries. Everyone hates on furries. Of course, that doesn’t stop them from hanging out in my town. (Please read that article. If it doesn’t cause you any glee, you are dead inside.)

All right, keep on keepin’ on, weirdos. Feel free to make fun of me in the comments if you must.

Celebs, Goths, and the Childfree movement: OH MY!

US Weekly has a feature called “Stars — They’re Just Like Us!” It shows celebrities being profoundly banal.

Like this:


I couldn’t make this up. ^ I’m just not that good a writer.

I wonder who else is misunderstood…


Back when I wore more black, people were surprised that I liked pop music, avoided drugs, and got straight As. I wasn’t the self-destructive, musically-restricted goth stereotype they’d been imagining. 

Fast forward a few years.

Now I’m “the girl that’s not having kids.”

You know, the “selfish” woman (yes, I’ve been accused of this multiple times). The one who obviously must hate humanity as a whole — but its most sweet, innocent members in particular.


Look how much hate!

Kids are great. But we Luccis prefer video games, books, drawing, movies, going out to eat, financial stability, sleep, down time, and cursing. Being the “cool family friends who spoil the crap out of the kids” is totally our speed.

Speaking of which, our Little Buddy collection has a new addition.

Meet Baby Evelyn (bottom right)! She looks exactly like her dad, Dr. Math. Which is kind of a pity, because I wanted to make paternity jokes. (Into every life a little rain must fall.) Congrats, Dr. Math & Special K! I look forward to hopefully not breaking your kid.