Hey, Cricket

So I was eating dinner one night, ok? Home made salmon burgers and broccoli. Delicious. I set my burger down for 30 seconds, look back, and this is what I find.



Cricket eating my sandwich! How rude!

Ever since we got Jomo, crickets have invaded our life. I find them everywhere: next to the tank, on the floor, on the cushions of our couch, even on the wall near the ceiling. They get everywhere! Mom and dad have even walked in with cupped hands bearing half annoyed and half amused faces. "Maranda, we got another. It was in our bathroom." They seem to like bathrooms.

That's all for now. I mostly just wanted to share the funny photo. :)

Birthday Fish

Well, as of February 18th, I've been on this Earth for 20 years! Neat. To celebrate with friends, I took them to the Seattle Aquarium. Fortunately, it was Octopus Week! Unfortunately, it was a Sunday and packed with screaming, smelly patrons (and their children: equally as ill behaved). Despite this, however, I still got some good fish time in.
One fish in particular was excellent. We all associate fish with pretty unresponsive, boring animals. They just swim around and, well, swim around some more. But this guy was tons of fun.

I whipped out my pencil to start sketching him, but when I noticed he was watching me, I stopped.

I wiggled my pencil in front of the tank to see what he would do. I turned my pencil to the right, he leaned to the right. I shifted it to the left, he leaned left. Back and forth, back and forth-- he just kept staring at the pencil, mimicking it!

Stark took over the fish conducting so I could get a good sketch in (with my pen, of course). All the while Stark was moving the pencil uuuuup and dooooown and side to side. The fish was almost hypnotized by it. We even got him to turn upside down once or twice.

I've never had a fish at the aquarium be so... interactive! It was quite a treat. He is without a doubt my new favorite.

The sketches I did aren't anything special, but once I paint them (if I paint them) then I'll post them. In the meantime, have some more fish! (Ok, well, more fish and a sea anemone. And a wolf eel. Mostly fish though, I promise.)

I'm Forgetting

You know how when life gets labyrinthine, so grainy and messy and confusing... that you just want to hide? And then you forget yourself, what it means to BE yourself, and you just act on instinct. This is the story of me lately. My future is uncertain, as it always has been. This does present a lovely way to appreciate the paths that life takes us down. As Shreve Stockton put it in her book The Daily Coyote, "The jewels in this life are the events we do not plan". To an extent, I love this idea. Last April, I would never have guessed that one of my best friends would become even more dear to me. I would never have guessed that I'd be working at a pet store surrounded by animals and animal lovers, which led to my buying of a mountain horned dragon. (more on this later) Life is unexpected, and our willingness to accept changes and roll with the punches, to me, is a great way to judge one's character.
Lately, my character has gone to "optimistic adventurous" to "fearful pathetic". Being strong and confident for those around me is just a front. Inside, I fear the future. When I move to a college, how will I survive? Sure, tuition and my savings will pay for college itself, but what of living? Food, rent, insurance, gas, pets, medicine...



When I get this way, my art takes a strange turn. I've noticed that the less stable my life is, the lazier and more emotional my art is. I no longer have the patience to do pieces like "Banishment" or "The Hath'Kann Moth Rider". Now my art is sporadic, emotional, and frankly, not as good. It is more confusing and more spur-of-the-moment, and results in that odd situation when I have to fudge an explanation for confused viewers, because I don't even know why I do the paintings I do. My art is as confused as I am.



On a more positive note, I've been able to cope with much of this because of Jomo.



He's already proving to be a perfect little addition to my life. He's easygoing enough to not need constant supervision, but active and interesting enough to be a great pet. He's gotten used to taking crickets from me (with tongs or from my fingers), and he's fond of perching on heads. He's decided that his favorite spot to hang out at in my room is a lanyard hanging from my lamp. He clings to it with his uber-sharp nails and has even fallen asleep on it-- hanging completely vertically. When I talk to him, he looks me in the eye and tilts his head, trying to understand. He's exactly what I needed at this stage in my life. A personal little friend to relate to.

That being said, Jomo is a distraction. He can't solve financial issues or decide what sort of living arrangement I should get when I move. But he helps me cope just by being a complex little being who I can hold and admire. I'll get through this with personal dedication. I have to, therefore, I will.