Вспомнилось тут. Вчера, когда я волевым решением вырубила интернет и твердо решила лечь спать в нормальное время, взгляд мой наткнулся на одну программу для рисования. Такие программы, знаете, где кисти уже встроенные и достаточно провести пару самых кривых линий, чтобы получить объемный набросок. И понеслось. В итоге у меня вышел не то перекошенный пришелец, не то помесь "Крика" Мунка с Тишиной из Доктора Кто. Вот он, бедный страдалец. Была еще куча всяких уродцев, но я их не стала сохранять.
И кислотная собачка еще.

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И чтоб два раза не вставать, три цитаты под катом.

Amanda Palmer - marriage is weirdwe’ve been trying to be married, i’ve been going through hard things. a few days before the trip it occurred to me that he could come, that i didn’t have to go alone. i asked him and his eyes lit up. marriage is weird. i still feel like a single person in marriage drag. every day it gets a little easier and every day the doubt deepens and i look in the mirror asking myself: “who the fuck were you to think that you could make a marriage work? you’re too demanding. you’re too fast. you’re too childish. you’re too careless. you’re too selfish.” then we get on a plane and it takes off and we have an extra seat between us and he falls asleep in my lap because he’s had a single tequila and i stroke his hair and kiss his face every few seconds, looking at the way he smiles in his sleep when he gets a little bit of love. i whisper to him that i love him. i figure he’s just as bad as me, and we’re just two freaks figuring it out.

Amanda Palmer about Neil Gayman - Nobody Cares Never Againanyway, neil got up and read last night at my gig. there were a lot of people talking while he read a chapter from his new (unpublished) novel. he’s been reading it bit by bit for different crowds, mostly when he’s with me and i ask him to hop up on stage and do something. he’s brave. i sat behind a curtain, all alone on the side of the stage, feeling so many feelings, because i knew what must be going on in his head (something along the lines of “i’m neil gaiman and i’m reading my new novel and nobody’s listening why the fuck did i tell my damn rock star wife i’d read something in bar, all i want to do is hide and i am never doing this again” and other variations of “Nobody Cares Never Again”).

he was very punk rock last night, mr. gaiman. he read his chapter over and above the drunk bar people, and the people who were listening loved him, which is always hard to remember, and when, during my set, his microphone crapped out, and then the back-up microphone crapped out, he came over to my piano and simply sang into my mic. he’s gotten braver, even though i think he was always brave and just needed to be reminded, or given permission, or whatever. i think it’s part of why he likes me.

Amanda Palmer - Emotions: This Was Deepwe played four songs. i cried a little during the second and third songs, but not a ton. i wanted to simply be sad and mournful, since Nobody Cared About Our Art, and to me, This Was Deep. but also, i sort of enjoyed the dramatic masochism of crying in front of a bunch of dudes. it felt Big.