Let the rumpus start…in heaven. Rest in peace, Maurice Sendak. :(
“You’re weird,” she whispers. Her lips have long since exorcized the ghosts of smiles that frequently flit there, but a telltale spark in her eyes betrays her amusement.
“You too,” he replies, his breath catching.
And in that moment, they both realize they knew each other even before they crossed paths.
I have no new doodle tonight, but here’s a reblog from my drawing archive. :) Sorry for the sparse updates, I’m quite busy with work at the moment. Have a good day, everyone!
Ghost of the Past. I started drawing on my sketchbook journal last night! My first entry is not particularly cheerful. When insomnia decides to visit me at night, this little ghost drifts from the middle of nowhere and haunts me till the wee small hours of the morning. Just sometimes, though. On good days, Mr. Pillows and Sheets will transport me straight to Dreamland once I hit them.
I’ll feature at least one doodle from my sketchbook journal every week. :) Not here, though (I want this tumblr to be lit-related as much as possible). Anyone else on blogspot? I’d love to connect with you there. Just drop me a line!
My blogspot’s at Cinderella in Combat Boots.
Ever have this feeling that you are not the one who found your book, but it’s the book that found you? Weird, but I sometimes feel that way, especially if I have no specific title in mind when I enter a bookstore. I’ll just walk around, examine the shelves, stop, and then there’s a certain book that will turn under my nose. I’ll pick it up, read the blurb at back, and if it strikes a chord with me, it’ll go straight to the cashier. Most of the time, books I don’t intend to buy turn out to be the best.
I don’t know if there’s such a thing as serendipity when it comes to finding books, but the treasures I found that way always give me something that my mind and my heart are starving for the moment before I find them. :D
Confession: I’m a book hoarder. Even if I have a to-read tower wobbling in the corner of the room and a stack of un-reads on my study table, I can’t control myself—I’ll still buy more. The tug of bookstores is just irresistible, and it’s almost a rarity to find my bag sans a new novel and my purse still full at the end of the day.
My first solution is to leave excess money at home whenever I’m going out, so as not to further ruin my already messy budget plan. Sometimes I cut my allowance so I won’t be tempted to purchase brand new books. Then all of a sudden I’ll feel the insistent magnetism of the nearest secondhand bookshops, full of titles cheap enough not take a huge chunk of the meager money I allowed myself to have for a day. I’ll hear a wicked little voice saying something like, “Look, look, book sale! What’s another twenty pesos off your pocket? Who knows, you might find that rare book you’ve been hunting for quite a while now!” Poof! I’m back to square one. Even if I don’t find that rare book, I’ll still be marching out the shop with a new novel in my hand. I just can’t help it. It’s like a sickness or an addiction or something. LOL.
liago said: Gah I love your blog and you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. Well, not met but, yeah. :)
Thanks, that’s so sweet of you! :)
free-asa-birdie asked: what’s your favourite john green book?
After rereading them all, I’ll say Paper Towns.
sugarsoakedtoe asked: can you draw an owl with a mustache?
Sputnik Sweetheart. If you’re following me, chances are you’ve seen this piece when it’s still a WIP. I submitted this drawing to a Haruki Murakami drawing/design-making contest at Nowness. :)
It is inspired by Murakami’s Sputnik Sweetheart. I illustrated the character Miu with half-black and half-white hair to symbolize the enigmatic, doppelganger-esque ‘changes’ she underwent in the book. In the drawing you can see several body parts—the limbs to be exact—scattered behind her. The symbolism of this can be construed into two ways: (1) the objects of lust that had wrapped Sumire’s very being when she met Miu, and (2) Miu’s inability to will her body to respond to any kind of love or lust after her other self had gone to the other side, as if her body is not her own anymore. Lastly, you can see a naked miniature Sumire on Miu’s palm to show that she has toyed with Sumire’s life without ever meaning to. I made the whole illustration as surreal as possible, because that’s just what Murakami’s style is. His writings make you feel as if you’re tottering between reality and dreams.
“My point is: maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there’s a tomorrow. Maybe for you there’s one thousand tomorrows, or three thousand, or ten, so much you can bathe in it, roll around in it, let it slide like coins through your fingers. So much time you can waste it. But for some of us, there’s only today And the truth is, you never really know.”
-Before I Fall (Lauren Oliver)
