Favorite Creations
Mar. 25th, 2004 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rowynI was thinking of asking one particular friend this question, then I decided it might be fun to pose it to everyone.
Many of my friends are creative sorts in the "traditional" fashion: artists, cartoonists, writers. But creativity takes many forms, whether painting a portrait or writing an essay on politics, crafting a short story or role-playing a character, performing in a play or rebuilding an old car. They are all creative endeavors in the purest sense: acts of creation.
I hate asking questions of the "what is your favorite [...]?" format. Myself, I can never pick just one favorite in anything.
But I thought I'd try it like this: "What is one of your favorite creations, and why?" I don't care about genre or medium: whether it's a picture, a story, a comic arc, a journal entry, a computer program, a gizmo, a roleplaying session or arc -- whatever, as long as it's something you've fashioned. (And assembling a model or a car from parts definitelycounts. What is a storyteller but someone assembling words into a new form, anyway? :D )
"Favorite" brings a particular bias to it that interests me. A favorite painting isn't necessarily the one with the most technical merit. Maybe it's the one with particular sentimental value. Maybe you just love the way that one eye came out, and so you ignore the terrible composition and the gradiant-fill background. For whatever reason, it's special to you.
Plus, for me, it's a lot easier to decide "I like this one!" then to figure out which one is "best". It's hard for me to get much perspective on my own work, selecting the best on technical merits would be an iffy proposition.
So, here is my request: pick a genre (I wouldn't advise trying to figure out if you like this miniature better than that RP or this picture or that story -- so it'll be easier to decide on the category first). Then pick one of your favorite creations in that arena and tell me about it -- in comments, or in your own journal, if you'd rather. If it's something you can link to -- an image or a story or whatever -- please do! If it's not feasible to show off the whole thing (an unpublished manuscript, for example), an excerpt would be much appreciated.
And last, because I thought it would be a little unfair to ask this of all of you and not do it myself:
I've picked The Warlock, the Hare, and the Dragon. Better known amongst its small circle of readers as "Silver Scales", this is an unfinished novel that I've been working on sporadically for the last year. It's been shown, as it's written, to a handful of friends. Despite (or perhaps because) having only worked on this only when I've felt like it, not having an outline written out for it, and generally giving myself permission to include whatever bits entertain me -- hackneyed, overused, or otherwise -- I'm remarkably pleased with how it's come out overall. I've gone back to re-read bits of it more often than anything else I've ever written (and I am typically a big fan of my own writing. That is, after all a large part of why I write.)
That said:
Kildare stepped from the sorceress’s bedroom and into a cleared spot near the door to his office. He fell back against the door, sagging in relief.
From the desk at the far end of the room, a brown head pivoted at the noise. Two long ears pricked up, then, as a pair of dark eyes fastened upon Kildare, slowly flattened again.
The grey man had the sudden feeling that he’d been safer in the sorceress’s lair. One gloved hand went to the doorknob at his back. Perhaps there was still time to escape.
“You,” Madden said, in tones so icy that Kildare moved to turn up the collar on his coat before he remembered it was already up. In a brown-beige blur, the hare leaped from the desk, bounding from one stack of boxes to the next. The series of leaps and landings caused each stack in turn to wobble precariously. Before Kildare had finished turning the doorknob, the hare was on top of the stack nearest him, glaring down at the grey man. “Don’t even think about it,” Madden growled, crouching close to the box.
Kildare released the knob. “Ah. Madden,” he said, weakly. “Have a nice nap?”
The jackrabbit’s fur was bristling all over his body, but his ears were flat against his skull. “Why, yes, very nearly, old chap,” he purred. “I was having a lovely nap, right up until someone started a ritual potent enough to shift Mt. Titania with my unknowing and need I add unwilling participation.”
“Er. Yes. About that ritual, Madden – “
“Yeah, Kildare,” Madden interrupted. “How about that ritual?” The hare drew himself up onto his haunches. It is difficult for eighteen inches of furry jackrabbit to look fearsome, but he managed it. “Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?” he roared, in a voice much too large to be emerging from such a small body. “What moronic spirit possessed you to make a portal to a dragon? Are you crazy, or just stupid?”
Kildare said, "Are those my only choices? Really, Madden, it was perfectly safe -- "
"Safe? Safe? You're using toadsbreath, for cryin' out loud, because you "NEED ALIVE DRAGON" and you're telling me it's safe?"
The warlock gave him a put-upon look. "You saw the runes," he said, trying to be reasonable.
Madden released an explosive breath, his small frame quivering with rage. "Putting the rune for "Safe" down six times does not make a spell safe! You treat that rune as if it were some kind of magic talisman -- " the hare paused briefly, realizing his linguistic error. Kildare tried to stifle a smile, which only earned him a fresh glare from the hare. "All right, so maybe it is a magic talisman. But it's not that potent!"
"My folds are always safe," the grey man said, almost conversationally.
Madden growled deep in his throat. "I retract my earlier question. You're stupid and crazy. Just because you've never died before doesn't make you immortal, either!"
Kildare lifted his white eyebrows and widened his eyes. "It doesn't?"
The hare's nose twitched as he sunk further onto his haunches. "I hate you."
The man started to unbutton his coat. "Does that mean you're done yelling at me, then?"
Madden snapped back, "As a matter of fact, no!" With renewed vigor, he launched into, "How dare you just plop me down, asleep, in front of your hare -- or I should say, man-brained spell? Using me, like a … like … “ He groped for words.
“Like a focus?” Kildare supplied, unwisely.
Madden dropped to all fours and dug his forepaws into the cardboard of the box he was on, rending deep furrows in it. Kildare swallowed and made a mental note to ask Madden about having his claws trimmed. “Like an herb!” the jackrabbit countered.
“That’s not fair,” the grey man protested, mildly. “You’re not even singed.”
“Don’t make me come down there and bite your little grey nose off, Kildare! You know what I mean – you treat me like I’m some inanimate, mindless prop!” Madden hopped up and down on top of the stacked boxes, furious. The stack started to tilt dangerously towards Kildare.
Kildare covered his nose with one hand and edged carefully back from the leaning pile. “Now, Madden, calm down,” he said, soothingly.
“I am calm! I haven’t started cursing you yet, have I?”
The man edged another step sideways along the wall. “True,” he said, “and you’ve no idea how much I appreciate that – “
“You’re right! I’ve no idea that you appreciate anything that I do!” the hare spat out. Boxes creaked underneath his shifting weight.
"Well, I do -- "
"You don't show it! I'm not some dumb bunny you pull out of a hat, Kildare! I am a living, thinking, spirit incarnate, and the fact that I happen to be incarnate as something cute and fuzzy doesn't give you the right to treat me like a piece of chalk or a magic book, to be used when convenient and put away when not!" Madden leaned farther forward on the topmost box, his eyes glittering.
A wave of shame flushed Kildare's face to a darker shade of grey. "I'm sorry, Madden," he said, contritely. "I didn't mean -- " At that moment, the stack the hare was perched on finally toppled. Madden gave a squeak of alarm and leapt, barreling towards Kildare's chest. The warlock put out his arms reflexively to catch the furry projectile. The falling stack intersected with another precarious tower, knocking it over, which, domino-like, struck a third. Kildare curled Madden to his chest, ducked his head, and hunched his shoulders, as the office filled with the sound of falling boxes and fluttering papers.
As the dust started to settle, the warlock straightened to observe the damage. Madden poked his head out from the safety of Kildare's arms, his ears back-laid ears sheepish now. "You really ought to unpack and get it over with," the hare remarked.
Kildare sighed and stroked Madden's back. "Yes," he said. "I suppose I should."
Now it's your turn: tell me about one of your works that you are especially fond of!
Many of my friends are creative sorts in the "traditional" fashion: artists, cartoonists, writers. But creativity takes many forms, whether painting a portrait or writing an essay on politics, crafting a short story or role-playing a character, performing in a play or rebuilding an old car. They are all creative endeavors in the purest sense: acts of creation.
I hate asking questions of the "what is your favorite [...]?" format. Myself, I can never pick just one favorite in anything.
But I thought I'd try it like this: "What is one of your favorite creations, and why?" I don't care about genre or medium: whether it's a picture, a story, a comic arc, a journal entry, a computer program, a gizmo, a roleplaying session or arc -- whatever, as long as it's something you've fashioned. (And assembling a model or a car from parts definitelycounts. What is a storyteller but someone assembling words into a new form, anyway? :D )
"Favorite" brings a particular bias to it that interests me. A favorite painting isn't necessarily the one with the most technical merit. Maybe it's the one with particular sentimental value. Maybe you just love the way that one eye came out, and so you ignore the terrible composition and the gradiant-fill background. For whatever reason, it's special to you.
Plus, for me, it's a lot easier to decide "I like this one!" then to figure out which one is "best". It's hard for me to get much perspective on my own work, selecting the best on technical merits would be an iffy proposition.
So, here is my request: pick a genre (I wouldn't advise trying to figure out if you like this miniature better than that RP or this picture or that story -- so it'll be easier to decide on the category first). Then pick one of your favorite creations in that arena and tell me about it -- in comments, or in your own journal, if you'd rather. If it's something you can link to -- an image or a story or whatever -- please do! If it's not feasible to show off the whole thing (an unpublished manuscript, for example), an excerpt would be much appreciated.
And last, because I thought it would be a little unfair to ask this of all of you and not do it myself:
I've picked The Warlock, the Hare, and the Dragon. Better known amongst its small circle of readers as "Silver Scales", this is an unfinished novel that I've been working on sporadically for the last year. It's been shown, as it's written, to a handful of friends. Despite (or perhaps because) having only worked on this only when I've felt like it, not having an outline written out for it, and generally giving myself permission to include whatever bits entertain me -- hackneyed, overused, or otherwise -- I'm remarkably pleased with how it's come out overall. I've gone back to re-read bits of it more often than anything else I've ever written (and I am typically a big fan of my own writing. That is, after all a large part of why I write.)
That said:
Kildare stepped from the sorceress’s bedroom and into a cleared spot near the door to his office. He fell back against the door, sagging in relief.
From the desk at the far end of the room, a brown head pivoted at the noise. Two long ears pricked up, then, as a pair of dark eyes fastened upon Kildare, slowly flattened again.
The grey man had the sudden feeling that he’d been safer in the sorceress’s lair. One gloved hand went to the doorknob at his back. Perhaps there was still time to escape.
“You,” Madden said, in tones so icy that Kildare moved to turn up the collar on his coat before he remembered it was already up. In a brown-beige blur, the hare leaped from the desk, bounding from one stack of boxes to the next. The series of leaps and landings caused each stack in turn to wobble precariously. Before Kildare had finished turning the doorknob, the hare was on top of the stack nearest him, glaring down at the grey man. “Don’t even think about it,” Madden growled, crouching close to the box.
Kildare released the knob. “Ah. Madden,” he said, weakly. “Have a nice nap?”
The jackrabbit’s fur was bristling all over his body, but his ears were flat against his skull. “Why, yes, very nearly, old chap,” he purred. “I was having a lovely nap, right up until someone started a ritual potent enough to shift Mt. Titania with my unknowing and need I add unwilling participation.”
“Er. Yes. About that ritual, Madden – “
“Yeah, Kildare,” Madden interrupted. “How about that ritual?” The hare drew himself up onto his haunches. It is difficult for eighteen inches of furry jackrabbit to look fearsome, but he managed it. “Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?” he roared, in a voice much too large to be emerging from such a small body. “What moronic spirit possessed you to make a portal to a dragon? Are you crazy, or just stupid?”
Kildare said, "Are those my only choices? Really, Madden, it was perfectly safe -- "
"Safe? Safe? You're using toadsbreath, for cryin' out loud, because you "NEED ALIVE DRAGON" and you're telling me it's safe?"
The warlock gave him a put-upon look. "You saw the runes," he said, trying to be reasonable.
Madden released an explosive breath, his small frame quivering with rage. "Putting the rune for "Safe" down six times does not make a spell safe! You treat that rune as if it were some kind of magic talisman -- " the hare paused briefly, realizing his linguistic error. Kildare tried to stifle a smile, which only earned him a fresh glare from the hare. "All right, so maybe it is a magic talisman. But it's not that potent!"
"My folds are always safe," the grey man said, almost conversationally.
Madden growled deep in his throat. "I retract my earlier question. You're stupid and crazy. Just because you've never died before doesn't make you immortal, either!"
Kildare lifted his white eyebrows and widened his eyes. "It doesn't?"
The hare's nose twitched as he sunk further onto his haunches. "I hate you."
The man started to unbutton his coat. "Does that mean you're done yelling at me, then?"
Madden snapped back, "As a matter of fact, no!" With renewed vigor, he launched into, "How dare you just plop me down, asleep, in front of your hare -- or I should say, man-brained spell? Using me, like a … like … “ He groped for words.
“Like a focus?” Kildare supplied, unwisely.
Madden dropped to all fours and dug his forepaws into the cardboard of the box he was on, rending deep furrows in it. Kildare swallowed and made a mental note to ask Madden about having his claws trimmed. “Like an herb!” the jackrabbit countered.
“That’s not fair,” the grey man protested, mildly. “You’re not even singed.”
“Don’t make me come down there and bite your little grey nose off, Kildare! You know what I mean – you treat me like I’m some inanimate, mindless prop!” Madden hopped up and down on top of the stacked boxes, furious. The stack started to tilt dangerously towards Kildare.
Kildare covered his nose with one hand and edged carefully back from the leaning pile. “Now, Madden, calm down,” he said, soothingly.
“I am calm! I haven’t started cursing you yet, have I?”
The man edged another step sideways along the wall. “True,” he said, “and you’ve no idea how much I appreciate that – “
“You’re right! I’ve no idea that you appreciate anything that I do!” the hare spat out. Boxes creaked underneath his shifting weight.
"Well, I do -- "
"You don't show it! I'm not some dumb bunny you pull out of a hat, Kildare! I am a living, thinking, spirit incarnate, and the fact that I happen to be incarnate as something cute and fuzzy doesn't give you the right to treat me like a piece of chalk or a magic book, to be used when convenient and put away when not!" Madden leaned farther forward on the topmost box, his eyes glittering.
A wave of shame flushed Kildare's face to a darker shade of grey. "I'm sorry, Madden," he said, contritely. "I didn't mean -- " At that moment, the stack the hare was perched on finally toppled. Madden gave a squeak of alarm and leapt, barreling towards Kildare's chest. The warlock put out his arms reflexively to catch the furry projectile. The falling stack intersected with another precarious tower, knocking it over, which, domino-like, struck a third. Kildare curled Madden to his chest, ducked his head, and hunched his shoulders, as the office filled with the sound of falling boxes and fluttering papers.
As the dust started to settle, the warlock straightened to observe the damage. Madden poked his head out from the safety of Kildare's arms, his ears back-laid ears sheepish now. "You really ought to unpack and get it over with," the hare remarked.
Kildare sighed and stroked Madden's back. "Yes," he said. "I suppose I should."
Now it's your turn: tell me about one of your works that you are especially fond of!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-03-25 08:37 pm (UTC)Like you, I have a hard time picking favourite anythings.... better to ask me what's my favourite this minute, cause it's gonna change in 5 minutes. Depends on my mood, and a lot of other factors (that applies to other people's work as well as my own)
But honestly, (and it surprised me) it wasn't too hard to pick my favourite written piece I've done. I'm very fond of lots of them...
but
Like you, I have a hard time picking favourite anythings.... better to ask me what's my favourite this minute, cause it's gonna change in 5 minutes. Depends on my mood, and a lot of other factors (that applies to other people's work as well as my own)
But honestly, (and it surprised me) it wasn't too hard to pick my favourite written piece I've done. I'm very fond of lots of them...
but <a href="http://www3.mb.sympatico.ca/~oceans/prose.htm" <b>The Tale</b></a> has always been my personal favourite. It's not my BEST work, it's clumsy and flawed and very rough, but there was a magic in writing it, it's raw, and a snapshot of my soul unvarnished, unapologetic.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 08:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 06:44 pm (UTC)Actually the name came first, a gift from a very old and dear friend. It means a great deal to me, on all sorts of levels, It's probably more 'my' name than the one my mother gave me.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 06:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 08:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 07:11 am (UTC)1) Creative work - I really, really like the way my current draft of the first letter from Sabine to Ztefan came out (I'm sorry there's no link to post; it's in a private writing journal and I don't feel comfortable with putting up an excerpt in my public journal). Finishing that proved to me that I could take one of my older, yet still sound story concepts and re-work the juvenile writing into something of worth. That was a good discovery.
2) Academic work - Back in college, I wrote a short poetry explication of John Donne's poem "The Triple Fool." (http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/triplefool.htm) I liked it so much that I submitted it to a writing contest my college holds every year. It didn't win, (and when I read the winning paper, I could see why ;-) but I still think it's one of my best academic creations to date.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 08:24 am (UTC)For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry
What a great opening! Somehow, I never expected John Dunne to write about "whining poetry". ]:) Shows what I know. It's a splendid poem, too. Clearly, Dunne was wasted on my callow youth; I ought to go read some more of his poetry.
But you didn't link to your essay. Would you send it to me? Pweeeease? *makes big shuggoth eyes*
I should try to pick a favorite literary paper. My verse and prose imitations for 18th Century Lit were probably my favorite classwork, but that's not the same as a proper research paper or a literary analysis. Hmm. Probably my essay on beauty and the sublime would be my favorite research paper.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 08:54 am (UTC)How can I resist big, shuggoth eyes? ;-)
In any case, the reason I didn't link to the essay is because...well, it's not online yet. I'll have to copy it from the page to the Web. When that's done, I'll put it in my own journal with a cut-tag so any interested parties may read it.
Yay!
Date: 2004-03-26 09:15 am (UTC)What Am I? Chopped Liver?
Date: 2004-03-26 08:34 am (UTC)You mean besides The Life and Death of Intelligence? I’m quite proud of the Doedelon.
I hope to have many more interesting things soon.
-- BarbX
If you can't be good, be short.
***** END MESSAGE *****
Ooo!
Date: 2004-03-26 09:10 am (UTC)It took me a long time to figure out that
no subject
Rather this is. This is the first network data center that I ever built from scratch. I had a 3 person team working for me as the IT Director for the now defunct company GetMedia in San Jose.
We built that entire center in 6 weeks, including having the entire building wired for both telephones and network (some 120 cubes and offices, over 150 drops total). Note I did all that while also working as the Facilities manager too. I was just a little bit busy :)
I moved the entire company of ~100 people overnight into the new building and every thing worked perfectly the next morning. Phones, printers, Email, network, faxes all of it. It was like an overnight brain transplant with no complications and no scars :)
It may not look like much, but that's the best thing I've ever done creatively.
CYa!
Mako
G33ky Zzyzxian and proud of it.
Wow.
Date: 2004-03-26 09:14 am (UTC)You should come work for Toddler Bank's IT company. They've never managed a transition that smoothly. >:)
[Though I shouldn't be too hard on them -- they do good work. :) ]
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 08:05 pm (UTC)He has every right to be proud.
===|==============/ Level Head
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 10:34 am (UTC)The problematic thing with me is that I tend to quickly forget about things I've finished, when I'm not eyeing the mistakes I made in them. I'm always in love with the things I haven't finished yet. If favorite means best loved and most often thought about, it would be the game ideas in my head that have no physical presence yet.
I need to actually finish things. -_-
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 12:07 pm (UTC)But -- aw -- c'mon, pick something. There must be a sketch or an RP log or some such that you're still fond of. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 04:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 04:48 pm (UTC)I have fond memories of the Mutant Chronicles campaign. I don't really consider the RP logs my creations, because everyone who played had a hand in making the game fun, but it's one of the few things that I look back on and enjoy again despite mistakes I made or my limitations.
In the small part that I created, I liked Jim Watterson. I liked who he was, what he stood for. I liked his gentle demeanor, and his reluctance to do what he was especially good at. He was a down to earth guy with a good heart, a certain amount of wit, and the edges worn off him by a harsh environment he had adapted to live in, mostly happy, sometimes a little sad, but not one to complain. I liked that he was just a principled person in a world of anti-heroes and larger than life figures, just trying to make his way and help his friends and his city along. I felt like I knew Jimbo, and I enjoyed the sense of comraderie that his strong friendships gave him. And I liked his dingy apartment, his beat up motorcycle, his smoking habit, his ever-present goggles, and his rooftop barbecue. :)
It seems odd, but I kinda miss the guy, like an old friend I've been out of touch with for a long time.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 01:38 pm (UTC)Three of Cups (to Loreena McKennitt's Mummer's Dance)
Moon Call (to Sarah McLachlan's 'Drawn to the Rhythm') (though this scan is from the not-quite-finished version; you'll have to imagine the golden bracelets and the tambourines)
The Mirari campaign is a favorite creation, of course! The campaign rocked, but the scenes with Tom and Randall and the one with Redmane bargaining with Monitor stand out the most for me.
And I'm happy with "Painted Memories," which was originally published in PawPrints and reprinted in Fred Patten's 'Best in Show' anthology. Here, have an excerpt:
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 01:52 pm (UTC)Then there are code creations I'm proud of, such as my implementation to get around behaviors of Linux's limited threading mechanisms and so on.
How utterly geeky.
-- Kagetsume
no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 12:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 07:09 pm (UTC)All speculation, of course, but most interesting. I await developments with great pleasure.
And speaking of pleasure, my favorite creative work was from years ago -- 1990-1993 -- and it was a software system. (Sort of a geek tragedy, I suppose.)
The system enabled people to design the screens, put in rules, and then have it generate source code for you. Many systems could do this to a very limited extent, but then you had to take over the code and modify it by hand. My system enabled the construction of software sophisticated enough to run international banks, and never touch the code. In fact, the source code was not even kept as it could be regenerated any time you wanted.
This was a big hit. At the time, the language had many aftermarket add-ons -- but mine did more business in dollars and unit sales then all of them put together, from its second month on the market. Thousands of users in more than seventy countries, and user groups all over the place. It was the second time my Lady and I had an excuse to do globe-trotting for business, as we were speakers in many US locations and places as far away as London and Sydney.
We made a lot of people's lives easier and products better -- and this was long before Windows came around. I had much help with this, but it was the professional work I am proudest of, and in that small circle, most famous for.
===|==============/ Level Head
A difficult choice.
Date: 2004-03-26 10:14 pm (UTC)But...whether to go for a quick excerpt, or link to a rough draft of Second Contact?
no subject
My first temptation is to say, "Whatever I'm working on at the moment." Which, to a large part is true.
When I wrote songs, I was most proud of whatever song I'd written
last.
When I wrote stories, I was most proud of whatever story I'd written last.
Now that I'm doing comics, I'm proud most proud of whatever storyline I'm working on. (Well, unless I'm blocked on it.)
It's kind of like climbing a mountain. Every step seems to bring you higher. Now, sometimes the journey may mean that in order to go forward you have to step down, but overall, one has to believe that the trend is onward and upward.
But, if you want one single concrete example, I can't say it's the artwork, but it's definitely one of my favorite strips.
http://techfox.keenspace.com/d/19990214.html
no subject
Date: 2004-03-29 03:37 pm (UTC)And, knowing Jenny, she just might have been .... :D
no subject
Date: 2004-04-16 01:00 pm (UTC)I suppose since I'm writing at the moment, I'll have to say that my dorky little character vignette based on a comic book called "The Authority" is probably my favorite -- simply for the dialogue. I've written better settings and painted clearer pictures, but the subtle, restrained dialogue of this piece really worked for me. Accidental, most likely. But there it is. (If anyone's interested, it lives here .
Can I cheat and post two? Once I mentioned costuming above, I knew I was stuck confessing how proud I am of my very first partial fursuit (the wolf in the photo). It's old now, well-worn and well-loved and half-eaten by the mice that overran our townhouse some time ago. But I haven't ever gotten around to making a new one, so it's still my love. Made out of a milk jug, a mountain dew bottle, some homemade paper mache, and the faux fur that was on sale. It's not very good compared to the flashy, gorgeous suits you see out there now, but it has deep sentimental value.
Addendum
Date: 2004-04-16 01:07 pm (UTC)