Cross-posting this from Goodreads, because once you write a few hundred words on another website, you kind of feel like you should harvest it back to your own blog, no? That’s what the insecure hustle voice in my head says anyway, as racking up word counts here on my blog matter to me for some reason. And, to be perfectly honest, it’s been a long time since I actually finished a book, and that feels worth noteworthy in its own way. Call it pandemic blues and the Sisyphean nature of parenting toddlers everyday that combine to make one feel horribly…unproductive, as a person. Being a human is complicated, and with that I will transition to this human/AI love story review.
As so often is the case, you can place the blame for this one on the Museum of English Rural Life. (I mean, not really, but what a sentence.)
It feels somewhat strange to report progress in anything during a pandemic and for no other reason than for funsies, but I feel like I’m making some gains in vector artwork.
Just a quick post to share my apparent progress with Adobe Illustrator; apparently I’ve leveled up in digital illustration! Somewhat unexpected, I have to be honest, but I’m definitely feeling like an old dog can learn new tricks somehow, even if that dog has spent literal years away from the fetch stick. I wish someone had told me years ago that Photoshop is painting on a canvas, with all the awkwardness of digital tool input and stroke translation, sure, but Illustrator is the awkwardness of painting on graph paper by describing mathematical formulas for what to place where and with what kind of curves. Who knew? (Lots of people. Just not so much me.)
It’s a bit of a paradox, posting during a pandemic lockdown. On the one hand, there’s almost too much that’s different in the world, and reporting on it is both repetitive and depressing for all involved (no?). How do you catch up from the last time this blog mentioned reality? That reality was so long ago. Thousands are dead, thousands in my city, and people are reusing medical equipment and wearing handmade cloth masks like it’s normal. Not to knock the latter; I’m clearly one of them, thanks to a crafty friend in Philly. It’s just hard not to feel some kinda way about the new normal.