greygirlbeast: (twilek2)
I like art that at first makes you mad. Good art provokes and inspires, baffles and even shocks us. Sometimes with its beauty, sometimes with its amazing ugliness. ~ John Waters

Why is this not perfectly fucking obvious? Why do people have to be told these things by artists? Why is the self-evident evidently so hard to see?

1) A busy day yesterday, so a subset:
a. I wrote pages Sixteen and Seventeen on the third issue of Alabaster. Dialogue is one thing. Choreographing the movement of three "actors" is another. The latter is a bitch.
b. My editor at Dark Horse (Hi, Rachel!) sent me Steve's pencils for Alabaster #1, pages 17-25, and they are, in a word, wonderful. Also, a Paul Benedict troll! Anyway, today I have to get notes together on these pages before the inking, though, truthfully, the notes will be few.
c. More conversation with Brian Siano about the final cut of the "teaser" trailer we'll be releasing in January for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir. I think people are going to be amazed.
d. My contributors' copies of the Lightspeed: Year One collection arrived, which compiles all the stories that appeared in the website's first year online. Edited by John Joseph Adams, it reprints "Faces in Revolving Souls," which, I have to admit, I'm not very fond of anymore. However, the collection as a whole is really quite awesome (the presence of OSC notwithstanding, and never mind the homophobic bastard's name is the first listed on the cover).

You know...this was going to be a much longer entry...

...but I keep writing paragraphs...

...and I keep erasing them. It's just that sort of morning. I'll do better tomorrow. Or later tonight.

But if you're in my Rift guild, do please remember that Thursday night is the next scheduled RP event. And one more thing, please have a look at last night's posted "Question @ Hand." I'm going to be accepting replies for several days, and I want to see some very good stuff. By the way, silly, hand-waving bad science is perfectly acceptable, in this case. I'm hoping for at least seven replies we can use in Sirenia Digest #72.

Oh! Also I've gotten word that people are beginning to receive the first round of rewards from Kickstarter we did for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir. I think these are prints of some of Kyle's photos. Pleased note that the rewards will be going out to donors in several waves, and that the last batch can't be mailed until after the book is published in March 2012.

And thanks to [ profile] sovay for reminding me that "The Key to the Castleblakeney Key" is now online, my contribution to Ann and Jeff VanderMeer's marvelous anthology, The Thackery T. Lambshead Cabinet of Curiosities. This online version includes the color photograph of the artefact, which appears in black and white in the anthology.
greygirlbeast: (chi (in all her fears)) it turns out, the fact that the house on North Avenue was painted Pepto-Bismol pink was only the joke. The punchline is that is was painted Pepto-Bismol pink because the next season of E's The Simple LIfe, that "reality" thing where Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie pretend to be actual people, is apparently being shot in the pink house. So, yes, it's supposed to look like a cheap hooker. About two this afternoon, Spooky and I walked over to Freedom Park, because I wanted to look at clouds, and there was a television crew, a radio station's van, and many other things, including two blonde's giving out "lemonade and cookies." Were they Paris and Nicole or just interns in disguise? I didn't get close enough to find out. As we were taking these photos (below), they kept shouting, "Don't you want some cookies and lemonade?" Finally, I shouted back, "I am the Lorax! I speak for the trees!", which shut them up.

The horror. The pink horror. )

I wish I were making this up...

I shall pause, though, to congratulate [ profile] mistressmousey on the birth of Allistair. Give 'em hell, kid. Now, where's that flame thrower. I know Nar'eth left one lying around here somewhere.
greygirlbeast: (chi (in all her fears))
So, is it somehow intolerant of me to think that yuppies who pay half a million dollars or more for pop-up Neo-Victorian mansions should at least have the good sense (and good taste) not to paint them the exact colour of Pepto-Bismol? This stomach-churning eyesore was previously an attractive house. Now, we may have to change the usual route of our evening walks to avoid unpleasant mental associations with nausea and the cloying taste of "wint-o-green." Oh, the photos are behind the cut. That last one is just an out-of-focus shot of my right foot taken last summer, which I thought I'd include for any fetishists who just happen to be into chipped black toenail polish...

Pink is the new beige. )


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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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