Feeling fat & sassy

This Is Chicago: Book Release Party

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Strange Days

I’m back in ActiveWorlds. Come say hi at AW¬†57.9S 3254.5E 2.2a 270


The Office of Myrth

The Office of Myrth

17195976614_6728be3cf8_o 17198088583_00cf0c25e1_o 17198103753_7e750dcd49_o A Concise Depiction of Early 2000s Internet The Blueberries Live Vroom Vroom 17818452055_65989d3264_o 17818943991_26acc77d34_o The Truth Is Out There

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8 Times Barbie Totally Stole Sandra Bullock’s Look

I’m doing important work over on tumblr.


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spotted: my bald head, back and to the left in Austin

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Ghost Gardens Preview Event with Pegasus Theatre

My candid bald spot makes an appearance at Ancien Cycles in Chicago supporting Pegasus Theatre.

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AIGA Mentor Meeting Wrapup


I think I misunderstood the assignment.

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A reminder to myself

1. Bing Maps is terrible.

2. Check back here someday, in case you’ve been digitally immortalized.

Screen Shot 2014-06-03 at 3.05.46 PM

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Marcel Duchamp > John Cage > The Books

Musical Erratum

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How sad is a blogger that doesn’t blog?

Quite sad, I say. Quite sad. I’ve been sitting on some blog ideas for months without ever getting around to writing them, strangely. I am missing my carefree deadjournal/livejournal/actualjournal days.

I guess part of being an adult is being embarrassed about the prospect of my every thought being available for public web consumption, but let’s be honest.

  1. I have a twitter.
  2. No one is reading this.

That being said, I think I can let the word vomit flow once more. I know I should really just use an actual pen and paper journal, but I have a bad habit of mixing sketchbooks and journals together in a very disorganized, messy fashion. Also, it does not take very long at all for my wrists to start hurting. How depressing is that? Even my body doesn’t want me writing or drawing for extended periods.

I’m seriously considering buying a condo, or else having a heart attack before age 30. I’m not sure how good of an idea it is to buy a condo that’s smaller than my current apartment and will cost 1.5 times my current rent. At least it’s forced savings? And the property value may go up since I’m looking at a place along Chicago’s somewhat-soon-to-be-opened Bloomingdale Trail? or should I say the 606? Both!

My chest feels kinda tight and gurgly. I think I’ve had too much caffeine today, which is impossible because there’s no such thing as too much caffeine.

Let’s see, here are some ideas I have currently:

Redone Andro Scout spread


  • Start a new webcomic! I have no time or creativity for this, but it’s been tugging at me for ages. The simplest (and partially written already) way would be to continue CPA, picking up my freshman year of college. Setting it in the past will allow me more time to process my present circumstances. I guess the better challenge for myself would be to actually do something fictional, but, like, that’s hard.
  • I need to update my design & artist portfolios
  • I need to paint
  • I need to make real art
  • I’ve been thinking about urban landscapes for awhile. I also miss mixed media and doing stuff on paper/cardboard.
  • I could reorganize or else redo my sleeper cell drawings as a “little black book”
  • (Mini) Zine of the month club!
  • make something awful: the first five years book
  • end #msaed to give me time to do these other things?
  • Get a new job
  • Set up my commissions page as an etsy
  • Get back credit for but first, coffee! Sell better quality mugs myself! Sue everyone else!
  • Blog about the but first, coffee phenomena
  • Do some write-ups explaining why I think my Sticky Note and Internet Eikon series are “art”
  • Refresh MyrthCo’s design and make it responsive
  • Stop using “scare quotes”
  • Stop writing such long lists
  • Where am I?

My apartment building is a disaster. We’ve been living there too long. Time to move on. In everything! Let it go, let it goooooo. I should probably film myself in full drag doing a cover of Let It Go before it’s too late, right?


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internet eikons in the wild

I’ve started sending some of my babies out to live on their own.

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