People Doodles #5

Went to a BBQ for the Fourth of July that had a whole bunch of people attending. Met some new people who probably won’t bother remembering my name, hah. 

When I was doodling, people would avoid looking at me. For some reason drawing at a public event is weird or something. People don’t like it. They pretend it’s not happening and ignore you if you do that, but they’ll glance at you sideways with that look that says “someone is being weird”. But some people ignored what I was doing while still chatting with me. By contrast if I were doodling ALONE in the park (not part of a group) or at a coffee shop or somewhere, people will approach me and ask me about my drawings and drawing aspirations. Or just smile pleasantly with silent approval. It’s a strange dynamic going on here. 

It’s also funny that people think other people don’t see when they give them the “that’s a weirdo” look and act nonchalant like they didn’t even notice you’re a weirdo. Like, just because I’m weird doesn’t mean I am blind to facial expressions hahah. But I guess they just can’t help it. 


Lifey Tidbits #4

Previous bunch of tidbits.

While sitting in the urban park next to the Engineering Building, I began to hear a mysterious loud metal thudding in the distance coming from the river. I couldn’t see the source but the sound came from a far distance and echoed in the cement park around me. In between thuds, the sound of metal hinges screeched. It was very rhythmic: “thud, screeeee, thud, screeeeee…” It was a sourceless, ominous, metal sound echoing an unknown distance away, attempting to hypnotize me into investigating it.

I sat there listening for a moment, absorbed in the sound; it seemed to grow louder, as if, whatever was making that sound, Megatron or the Iron Giant, was stomping through the city, and coming closer. No one else around me seemed to notice. Maybe this happened all the time downtown. I began to think I was just hallucinating the sound and having some kind of creepy mindtrip, where Silent Hill was bled into reality and only I could sense it and it would turn out I was just passed out in the park.

After awhile it started making slow pauses. “thud, scree…….thud, scree” sometimes so long that I thought it was over. It was a giant creature unpredictably stomping through the city, stopping to sniff the air or investigate some humans to eat. As I am writing this the sound is rhythmic again but is slowly getting softer and softer as the creature walks away from where I sit, going back to its lair somewhere in the Willamette.

Obviously it was just some ship freighting or something going on on the river, but my imagination is much more exciting.

In the urban park again, I was sitting on top of the side of a dry water fountain, atop the staircase-like shape of it. As I sat doing school work, a man across the park yelled “Jillian!” I naturally looked up at the sudden sound, but as the guy was wearing sunglasses and way too far away, I couldn’t tell where he was looking and assumed he was looking behind me at someone else, so I went back to my work.

The man yelled “I see you!” Then started to come closer. I watched him in my peripheral vision, because I sensed that he was talking to me but still wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to look like a jackass if I gave my attention to someone that wasn’t even talking to me. But he kept coming closer and hesitating a bunch until he was right near me, at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me. He said “Jillian?” in a soft, nervous, voice. As if he was seeing the ghost of Jillian and didn’t know what to believe. I finally looked at him and he just went “Ooooooooh….” Realizing his mistake.

I said “oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me.” Only kind of bullshit. I smiled a sheepish way to try and help him not feel embarrassed. He awkwardly explained that I look a lot like his friend Jillian. I apologized for not being this Jillian and snickered at the situation, and he apologized in return then laughed and went on his way.

He was kind of cute, in a punk rock kind of way…

Two women in white dresses both sit on a ring of dirt on the PSU outdoor amphitheater stage thing. The women are typing on typewriters. Big blue antique typewriters. Skinny, faded yellow trails of paper circle around them in the dirt. Like hipster forest nymphs. It’s the kind of long narrow paper people use in those calculator accounting things. The white dresses they wear are noodle strapped and short. I think they are supposed to look majestic, or innocent…or something. One girl has shortcut blonde hair, shaved on one side of her head, so it kind of kills the meaning of the dresses and dirt…the other girl is a long-haired brunette with a big black tattoo that I can’t make out on her shoulder.

It is obviously some profound piece of art that someone put together for a class, and there must be some profound meaning behind it. But what? I think this is too profound for me. And perhaps everyone else who is stopping to look. There is a man with an expensive looking camera taking pictures of them from all angles and some close up to them and the paper, some far away to catch every detail. For some reason I’m reminded of porn being filmed. Ew, brain! I wonder what they are typing. Poetry? Profound thoughts? The answers to life itself? Their sociology essay due next week?

Regardless, most people who walk by gawk at the scene skeptically. The women ignore the world around them and focus on their typing, occasionally sliding the cursor across. Some people outright ignore what’s happening, either too cool to notice (or too cool to express they noticed), or sick of seeing weird Portland art around town. Faces ask “Is something going on? What is this for? What does it mean? Why is this happening?” Analyzing their faces is more amusing than the art piece.

When the women are finished with their performance, they stand up and put on their jackets (cuz it was friggin’ cold despite the sunshine) random people go up to the stage and go through the papers, seeing what was written on the pages. I am tempted to go up too just out of curiosity, but I refrain because everyone up there is talking to each other and I don’t want to get awkwardly involved in a conversation about the meaning of the art or whatever. I am not eloquent with my mouth. Then everyone is shooed away so the guy with the camera and the women can clean up the dirt with shovels. It has been revealed that a green tarp and a blue tarp were underneath the dirt. Aw, they killed the fantasy.

Also, one of the girls looked like an acquaintance…still not sure if it was actually her or not…

Downtown, headed to Pioneer Square from PSU on foot, I suddenly heard some kind of very loud reggae-rap music playing from near me. I instinctively looked at the source of the loud noise, and saw an old man in a wheel chair with the boom box under his seat. He looked me right in the face immediately, his eyes accusing me of staring at a cripple, daring me to do something about his public disturbance. I was verily confused for a moment, because this old cripple obviously wanted people to pay attention to him given his obnoxious music playing. Or he at least knew that it was going to (and did) draw attention, since he responded immediately to my attention as if he were expecting it. And didn’t do a thing to perhaps quiet himself down.

Most weird things in Portland people don’t question, but I couldn’t help ponder what the Hell that old man’s game was. Even if he was starved for attention, he was going about it in a really awkward way. Maybe he was testing the society around him, experimenting. Who would dare ask him to please turn down his annoying loud music? Maybe he was itching for a fight or a debate or at least a reason to get mad at someone. I had no way of knowing if he was “downtrodden” or not. Maybe he was an angry or senile bum? Maybe just bored? Maybe someone put that boom box in his chair as a prank and he couldn’t reach it to turn it off. The world may never know…

Next bunch of bits

Lifey Tidbits #3

Previous bunch of tidbits here.

I changed the name of these posts because “Life Observations” is BORING and also, not all my observations were observations…more like…shenanigans…

Got kicked off the train at Gateway due to accident at 82nd “involving train and person”, according to I contemplated on that, but had 30mins until class and needed to be downtown STAT! No time to contemplate the profoundness of life and death! Checked out the buses at Gateway, peering meekly at their destinations, but couldn’t tell which ones went through downtown. Then I saw a bus with “via City Center” on its face. Bus 19, have never taken it before. Dubious on what the “via” meant, but I assumed the obvious. Asked bus driver, just in case, “This goes through downtown, right?” He said “Yup yup,” while motioning me and others to hurry up and get on bus, not even checking our fare. I thought he might have just been saying “yup” to whatever I said to get me to move along, so I was still suspicious of the bus destination. I took a seat and kept vigilant for any bad turns by bus, hoping it didn’t squiggle its way downtown. Finally I saw the familiar tall buildings of downtown in the distance. Whew! Faith in humanity in good standing!…kinda. Was 5 minutes late for class. Couldn’t go pee beforehand so did potty dance in seat for 20 minutes while Prof. talked.

Pouring rain. Met with drawing classmates and Prof. in Art Building for “field trip” to art galleries. Is a field trip in college a field trip? Why is it called a “field” trip anyway? Are we going “out on the field” doing research? After standing awkwardly with classmates whom seemed overly attached to each other and not, for some reason, at all with me, the Prof. showed up.
Prof., “Why didn’t you guys bring your umbrellas?!”
Dude, “We’re Portlanders!”
Portland humor.
Older lady, fellow classmate, laughs and brandishes her umbrella like a sword, almost hitting me in the face.
Other Girl looks down at her umbrella sheepishly, ashamed at herself for being a bad Portlander.
I look down at the half-slippers I put on, too lazy to tie shoes this morning. They slip on like a slipper, but have the soles of a regular shoe…for taking out the garbage and checking your mail. I must be a true Portlander now, wearing slippers in the rain, and for that matter, even out of the house. I don’t even own an umbrella.
When we leave the building together, Other Girl with umbrella does the thrust-up-in-the-air method of opening an umbrella, and almost hits me in face.
Geez people.
Tempted to wear sign on my forehead saying “I EXIST.”

Upon passing by the common area of 9th floor Broadway, I see that a girl has made the area into her own personal painting studio. She has a tarp laid out on floor and newspaper on the table. Underneath the newspaper are her bottles of paint, splayed out paintbrushes, and Tupperware of water. The chairs are against the wall except for the cushioned ones that are bolted down. She has a tall easel set up on the tarp and stands before it, brushing blue paint on an already green and brown canvas that is as tall as a child. She is also singing to herself, in that soft high pitched voice way, like the girls in high school choir outside of class, that weird uniform way that is…not pleasing to the ears. As I walk by she hesitates in her singing and glances at me, but immediately starts up again and goes on painting. Perhaps she’d been hoping I was a cute boy who would be impressed by her free spirited artistness doing it all out-in-public-like.

Went into bathroom to prepare for a shower. Noticed a kitten sleeping on top of the towels in the cupboard. Too cute to disturb, found other towel. A moment after getting in the shower, a tiny kitten head pokes out from behind curtains, eyes wide and wondering. Her eyes are almost as big as her head. She jumps on the far edge of tub, watching where water hits the bottom of tub. So cute. I think, “what harm is there?” She soon slunk herself between the curtains toward the head of the shower, and watched the water more closely from the transparent inner curtain. I peeked at her from around the curtain, she looked up at me with her huge kitten eyes and said “meow”, sounding concerned. She is curious but also frightened. Eventually I made a grab for the soap, which she was huddled next to. This made her flip out and, literally, flip out of the shower. I said “aw, don’t go!” and heard a tiny “mew” in response. After awhile, I looked out of shower to check on her, worried she might be hiding or cowering near door. Instead, she was sitting and lethargically smacking a hairband on the bathroom rug. But she almost instantly noticed me watching and said “meow!” again, loudly, and bounced over, as if asking me a question. “In a minute!” I said, and finished my shower.

Kitten now has new experience in little kitten belt.

Rain rain rain.
Wind wind wind.
Wind blows rain
like powdered snow.
It’s only cold
because of the wind
on my wet hands and face.
Have to clutch my hood
so it won’t fly off.
At least,
I get to wear my ducky boots,
and matching yellow raincoat.
distracts from piercing wind
and rain splashed glasses.
Dance at train stop
Mind over matter
That’s all that matters.
Cold is only cold if you think “its cold.”

Lady’s umbrella flies up backwards.
She attempts a fix, but
it only folds limply down its stem.
Umbrella’s are a useless invention
when wind is involved.

Accidentally wrote a poem.


There’s a blue splatter of paint on the train wall directly in front of me. It’s shiny. Wet? How did this happen? Only in Portland does someone manage to splosh their blue paint on the inner wall of a city train. At least, I think it’s paint…it could be some other crazy chemical substance, or alien blood. Or alien loogie. Eeeeeh, it’s like, a foot way from my face, don’t think that shit.

Next bunch of tidbits

Lifey Tidbits #2

First bunch of tidbits here.


In the classroom where Poetry class is held, I arrive early. There are only four people in the room, including myself. I head to my normal seat, affixed by my Asperger’s need to sit in the exact same seat every day, but I see that the guy I sit next to is using my chair as an ottoman. I say “may I sit?” and notion at the chair. He removes his feet, but flings in hand in the air and rolls his eyes in the way that says “What you said is perfectly ridiculous.” Without my control, I snap at him, “Fine. I won’t then.” and sit in the next chair over. He said “It’s not my chair…!” in exasperation. I don’t say anything further, and go about arranging my things on the desk like normal, perfectly aware of the two other people in the room probably wondering what the heck just happened. Not sure why I snapped so suddenly. It’s not like me. Too much pet peeve. Makes me want to sock the person. Especially if they are female. It might also be because of the grieving process. I don’t know, I feel stupid but it felt good to stick up for myself even if it was over something so incredibly dumb.


There is a girl in Poetry class who shaves off and redraws on her eyebrows. I have never understood this fad, but this girl draws her eyebrows on in an angry angle every day that I see her. She looks like she is constantly disgruntled and perplexed about everything around her. Her eyebrows have her in a constant state of “Da fuck she just say?” She has perpetual bitch face. Why would she do this? Does she even realize she has constant bitch face? Would she appreciate being informed on it? Perhaps she thinks she is making herself beautiful and wonders why people don’t ever want to approach her…….


Dude I snapped at in poetry class still sits next to me. Like nothing ever happened. But now there is a weird tension in the air. Not aggressive or awkward…more like…competitiveness. It’s hard to articulate. It is like we are both waiting on each other’s next move, to counter strike or retaliate, or something like that. Today I doodled Mass Effect themed drawings into my notebook. Later I noticed he drew a picture of a thumb and finger making a cave holding a flag with a woman in rags and holding a spear standing within. He drew it with Micron pen. I doodled with my regular writing pen. It was obvious his drawing was a reaction to my doodling. All I can think is “what the heck?”


On walk home from train station, I saw a woman standing at the bus stop. She wore a pink baggy t-shirt and capri-sweats and no shoes. It’s February. Winter. Cold. She looked like she just got out of bed, literally, from sleeping to being at the bus stop in one move. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest in the same way Mom does it when she is cold, in a slightly hunched kind of way. This is my neighborhood.


Today, Poetry Rival was very antsy and cursing very outwardly about whatever was happening on his laptop. He tapped his keyboard violently. Tempted to be sassy and remind him that keyboard buttons are breakable. I ignored him though, but felt almost scared for my life. After his episode, and about 5 minutes later, I notice he is watching a YouTube video about Mass Effect…I was also wearing my Mass Effect hoodie. Is this intentional? It is like he is trying to show me things about his personality without actually talking to me. Am I just being paranoid? Maybe he has a crush on me now. First girl ever to counter his impoliteness and now he is in love. Oldest tale in the manga. I’m probably just being silly though.

More tidbits this way –>

Lifey Tidbits #1

Everywhere I go, I bring this green book with blank pages along with me and lately I have been writing in it entirely random encounters and observations I experience when going about my day. Some of them are kind of interesting, and since my writing lately has really taken off in a practice kind of way, I think it would be interesting to share them, to encourage me to do it more.


A bearded old man wearing huge blue sunglasses plays an acoustic guitar in the auditorium park blocks. It’s raining. He wears a short-sleeved shirt. He dances in circles as he plays fast simple chords in a chaotic melody. Perhaps that’s why he is managing to stay warm in the rain. Or perhaps he simply enjoys the feel of the rain hitting him as he spins around. He is just an old man doin’ what he loves, and being happy about it: playing the guitar while spinning in circles. Three children in different colored jackets and different ethnicities dance near him, using their different colored (closed) umbrellas like a Broadway show. The scene makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.


A young man gets on the number 10 bus on my way to school, at the Reed stop. He has very stylish, wavy black hair and a torn denim jacket and black torn skinny jeans with a chain  connected from the wallet in his pocket to a belt loop. I can’t hear it, but he talks very sincerely to the bus driver and then turns around sullenly and gets off the bus. As he walks up the street, he flips his middle finger up backwards without looking back. Seeing the poor ragamuffin makes me want to throw $3 out the window for him. The bus driver is the same one who drives me to school every time I leave at 10:30. Everyday he barely looks at me as I get on the bus, barely acknowledging that his passengers are people, zonking out as he shoves his bus along. Although, if the ragamuffin wanted fair treatment, he might not want to dress in a street-punk-probably-steals-lunch-money-from-first-graders kind of way. Ah, moral dilemmas…


As I walk to Japanese class, I notice a girl with frizzy auburn hair stop and bend down in the middle of the street. When she comes back up, I see she is holding a kneaded eraser. She kneads it in her hand for a few seconds, still standing in the middle of the road, then smiles and stuffs the thing in her pocket as she continues on her way….Portland…


Zoned out and watching life from my seat on the train, I notice a boy with an art portfolio that looks like mine hurry his way up to the parking lot of the Division platform. He reaches the long set of stairs from the platform to the parking lot. The stairs are divided in two by a railing. As the boy takes a few steps up the stairs, he suddenly stops and stares at the woman ahead of him. She is fat and staring down at her mobile device, taking each step as slowly as possible. The boy analyzes the situation, then turns back, bolts quickly down, and runs up the other side of the stairs, taking two at a time. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. I am a bad person sometimes…


In poetry class. I notice, across the classroom, a fresh-out-of-high-school African-American girl sitting among a group of three old, white hair and wrinkles, Caucasian men. I assume they are discussing the poetry readings. The old men nodding and responding in agreement with what the girl says, and her vice versa. The scene is particularly nice. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Perhaps I have subconscious beliefs that all white old men are racist and all young people hate listening/talking to old people?

Next bunch of tidbits here.


Illustrated People Drawings!

Being an aspiring comic book artist, I need to focus on honing my comic drawing style. I need to practice poses, different faces, and complicated clothing. Man, do I have issues with this! Why does the thing I want to be good at have to be my weakness?!

But that just means I have to practice vigorously! Which I have been!….when I’m not playing videogames, or with the boo! Boyfriends are very time consuming…hahah!

Anyway, I have taken to drawing anyone who grabs my interest, or any videogame person idea that grabs inspiration. I beat Dragon Age: Inquisition and for awhile all I could do was draw fan art for it. Now, I’ve been on the verge of relapsing into Mass Effect again and can’t stop thinking about drawing female Biotic Shepherd! Aaah!

I’ll just get to the point.

Average Chicks in Portland

Three random real life girls I saw downtown

Dragon Age

My Dragon Age II and Dragon Age: Inquisition characters! Wheee!

Suki the Star Child

Star Child from the game Conception 2!

Herald of Andraste Noble Agenda (inked) Portlander 001 Portlander 002


Some Still Life Sketches

These are some of the still life sketches from my Drawing class sketchbook that I have deemed internet worthy! Some of them have little Hiragana scribbles because I have also been studying Japanese. Every still life I have done was during times I was waiting for something, either waiting to reach my bus stop, waiting for class, or waiting for a person to show up…none were drawn of my own actual wanting to sit down and draw. Meh.

I’ve finished my Drawing class though, and these are the pickings from the sketchbook. There were 40 by the end of the term, but lots of them were super simplistic and boring, so bleh!

#10 Broadway

Broadway Lounge

I always feel weird when I am drawing people and it is so very obvious. But weird in a good way, like “Yeah, I’m drawing you, what are you gonna do about it?!” and kind of laughing evilly on the inside… They totally knew I was because they kept glancing over at me. But as an artist, its okay, because its, you know, like, for art, and like…expression, and my aspirations, and stuff…they don’t even have to sign a thing or anything! And now they are on the internets. Sometimes I’m pretty sure people are flattered by it anyway, besides being shocked to find out.

#15 Abstraction of a Complex Guy

Abstraction of a Complex Guy

I drew my boyfriend as we were taking our hour long break between classes together. I didn’t tell him I was drawing him, and when he realized, he started commenting on it, so I also recorded what he was saying. He is also the one who suggested I title it “Abstraction of a Complex Guy” as sarcasm. He doesn’t agree it looks like him.

#16 Oasis

Broadway Lounge Water-Fountain

I drew only the water-fountain and the steel thing it was mounted on and wrote OASIS in crappily sketched letters because I am so totally unique and special and creative. When I am sketching things I don’t particularly care about, I tend to…do extra stupid things to it…to be clever in a stupid ironic way.

#18 Door to Hell

Door to Hell: Science Research Building

AKA, Room 162: 12 o’clock Japanese class. This class was BRUTAL. So bad that I really began having nightmares about missing class, or missing a vocab word. After each class, it felt like I just got done with an extreme hike. I would go into the details of this class, but I think it makes for a juicy blog post for later. I think what I wrote up there is “Japanese class I have everyday”….if I remember correctly. Probably in horribly grammar and terribly misspelled hiragana. I know the word akuza from D. Grayman. Yay! Anime is learning!!

#21 Flower

Flower in Montgomery Courtyard

I don’t know what kind of flower this is, but I think it turned out pretty. I was trying to use more contour lines because I really stink at it. I ought to learn my flowers. That’s a girl thing to do, right?

#23 3DS

Nintendo 3DS

I don’t have much to say about this one. Pokemon 4 Lyfe?

#25 Life Guru

Bulletin Board Neuberger Hall

I drew this because our sketchbooks were due for a checkup and I was just behind! As I was drawing the unique and special hipster decal to the top, a friend was chatting with me, and I started sketching out what I was saying to him rather than the word Guru! HAH! That’s why there’s a little faint M behind that G.