I am squirming with happiness. My director managed to open everything I sent him and he emailed me saying it was "just what he wanted." Happiness. So now I'm off to go shopping in celebration. Squee.
In the meantime, I thought I'd put up a drawing I did the other day. At one time my notebook margins were filled with odd doodlings and sketches, some of which were quite involved. Alas, I'm no longer being bored to death by teachers, so my drawing skills have fallen off sharply, but sometimes I pick up a pencil again.
This is Jonathan Strange reading "The Friends of English Magic." It occurred to me that they didn't really have bathtubs as we think of them back then, so I tried stuffing him in a sitzbath. I like the result, even if he doesn't really have any room for his manly masculine calves. Must be all that striding around the King's Roads and whatnot. My apologies to any loyal readers who come here looking for a PG rating--and also Susannah Clarke. I know I could never do JS real justice.