Hiyas fabulous people, Kim here with a new sketch for ya. This weeks theme is xenoblade, a video game that most recently took part in Smash Bros. franchise. One of my great friends requested me to sketch someone based of xenoblade, even though I’m totally clueless on the franchise. Personally this isn’t mine my favorite sketch, I don’t think I did the lovely graphics much justice but my friend freaked out when he saw the sketch, loving it. Let me know what you think, and again I’m starting to take requests 🙂
We are the women with heavy eyelids, hectic homes, and full hearts.
We are mothers.
When our little one forgot his favorite blanket in the car this morning, we left work to take it to him. We wiped butts, played chauffeur, cooked dinner, cleaned messes, gave baths, read books, and chased away monsters. Not once today did anyone say, Thank you.
We are unacknowledged, but we will wake up and do it all again tomorrow.
We are mothers.
Dinnertime tonight was a disaster. Our big kids complained about everything, fought with each other, and didn’t want to eat what we made for them. Our toddlers screamed and threw food across the floor because they didn’t get a nap. In all of the chaos, we yelled at our kids. Then retreated to the bathroom and cried because we lost our temper with them, again.
We are frustrated, but we always forgive and…
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In 1955, right out of college, I found one of those jobs in publishing so dear to history and English majors who could afford them. We were paid almost nothing, which was considered OK for girls, at least if they had parents who could give them a winter coat for Christmas and bail them out in an emergency. Health insurance wasn’t necessary in those days, when a visit to the doctor or a prescription for an antibiotic cost very little. If you shared space, you could even rent an apartment in Manhattan; with three roommates, I lived near Second Avenue in the80s. We had a duplex two-bedroom apartment in a funky old house with a lot of charm – and a lot of cockroaches, but who cared? Right above the bathtub on the second floor there was a skylight that offered dirty and difficult access to the roof. We…
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A follow up post inspired by Sara Glancy’s post
My name is Christopher Gabriel Núñez, I am a writer / actor / rapper and I haven’t worked a survival job in over a year.
Let’s be clear about one thing: The “starving artist” myth was invented by people with a different value system than you, if you are, in fact, an artist.
The starving artist myth was invented by the ancestors of people who spend seven hundred dollars on white noise alarm clocks at Sharper Image but would tell Itzhak Perlman to get a job if they saw him playing violin in Grand Central Station.
Fuck those people.
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