Trying to get creative

Sometimes, it’s hard for an intimidating, introverted, tall gal to make friends. Maybe there’s a sort of look I give that gives an air of “my teeth are really made of razor sharp Xacto's-I EAT YOU!” rawr. Any who, it’s been about 6 months in my new place and I think I’m progressing well on that social merry go round we call SF interaction traction, what’s your malfunction.

A new buddy of mine has decided to hold an ‘art night’ as his house; hopefully monthly. Basically we all sit around and create, the idea that being in the presence of creatives will get your creative juices flowing-to paper, not down your leg-in a Megalasarous sized creativity creative Creation nation, jam-fest. This first session found four tattoo artists dudes and me: a non tattooer, non dude, would-be artist gal.

It was a fun beer filled evening, chock full of paints, jokes, munchies and an oddly uncomfortable moment where a random older British man disrobed to show us his body suit. Not that the disrobing part was that uncomfortable, but more so the fact that he sat there and talked to us for a good 20mins with his pants around his ankles. It's hard to keep eye contact-or a straight face-when your oculars have been accosted by what appears to be a pair of manties filled with low lying golf balls.

(wow, she's got some weird thing coming from her crotchal region)

...

Oh dear lord, saggy balls from over the pond!

I ended up sketching out a young Queen Mum as a festering rotting zombie with a Union Jack flag and some Thistle in the back ground. Perhaps it was inspiration from the exhibitionist Brit fellow that made me think of the Queen festering with sagging rotting skin... No pic yet, will post it when I've completed it.

Tagged by Francesco