A nature-loving, eccentric pony, travelling the world with her animal friends and thinking up answers to your questions on any topic! (The management does not guarantee what she comes up with will actually be an answer.)
I may have indulged in picking up an excellent new character design! While the details of her character are still in the works, and so Iām sure Iāll have more to say, I find myself thinking about this as the foundation of her heart...
There are, of course, seeds one plants in Spring or Summer that will appear in Spring or Summer; there are many more, however, that reach the earth in fall, that are buried away by squirrels or birds... Or Forest Fairies, of course. Those do not rise in damp, chill autumn, when the forest sheds a beautiful coat -- you think of them as born in Spring. Those are patient ones, who endure the cold of winter to bring in green spring. And so a creature of Fall, most of all, sees under her tenure the yearās end and beginning at once. It just takes a little patience to see.Ā
Animal Crossing Closet is closing in on 30,000 followers - and to thank you all, I have decided to hold a giveaway. Not Bells or furniture or in-game items, but a hand-made Julian plush by yours truly!
The rules are simple - only reblogs count, but you may like for reference. You must be following ACC. You may reblog as many times as youād like, the winner will be selected by a random number generator. The giveaway is open to anyone at all, however, if you enter and live outside of the US please be prepared to pay for shipping if you win!
The giveaway will end and a winner announced when this blog hits 30,000 followers ā new followers welcome to enter, donāt be shy!
Louisiana is experiencing the worst flooding in the history of the state.
Over 7,000 people have been rescued and over 5,000 people are in shelters unable to return to their homes. In addition, over 1,000 drivers are stranded on Interstate 12 between Baton Rouge and Slidell, who today received supplies flown in via helicopter. AT&T service has been down throughout the Baton Rouge metro area.Ā One of my former professors told me heās been living in Louisiana for 44 years, and has never witnessed flooding this severe.
In Denham Springs (about 10 miles from Baton Rouge), the Amite river is currently at 46ā² and rising. Flood stage for the river starts at 29ā².Ā
This is bad, really bad. Places that only flood once every 500 years are flooding. Unfortunately, these are also places where people donāt have flood insurance because they donāt live in a flood plain.
There was no warning for this, at least with hurricanes we can see them coming and have time to prepare or evacuate.
Please, if you can, donate to the victims through the Red Cross. Or, if you are interested in helping with post-flood disaster assistance, please sign up with Volunteer Louisiana.
If you live in the effected area and are in need of a shelter, This Link has a list of shelters in Ascension, East Baton Rouge, Iberia, Lafayette, Livingston, St. Helena, Tangipahoa, Vermillion, West Feliciana, and Washington Parishes.
If you are in need of rescue please call:
Baker:Ā (225) 778-0300
Baton Rouge:Ā (225) 389-5000
Central:Ā (225) 367-1254
Livingston Parish:Ā (225) 686-3996
St. Helena Parish:Ā 222-4413 - press 0
Patients in need of kidney dialysis:Ā (225) 772-1428
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BOOST THIS! I AM NOT IN THE FLOODING BUT FAMILY IS VERY VERY CLOSE. SOME ARE STILL WAITING TO BE RESCUED SO PLEASE PLEASE SPREAD THIS AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE
I donāt normally post stuff (I donāt normally post), but this is close enough to me to be something I need to share. Iāve got friends in Denham Springs, and Iām hoping theyāre OK.
So, Iāve been pondering a few ideas about a mild reboot -- because the story I was going with, well, I havenāt been able to churn out a part of that in forever -- or much else. I stumbled into it, and it really was not working, so I thought a new place to launch from would be a good idea.
Basically, nothing asked, shown, or told is invalidated -- everythingās pretty much as true as it ever was -- Iām just jumping to something to give the blog a jumpstart.
So, what Iād like to do now is try and figure out where to start. The basic sitatuationās already been about laid out, and I can work my overarching goals into just about anything... So what Iād like to ask you guys for are some prompts! These could even just be little drabble-sized things (or actual questions), or places youād like to hear about what Foxglove could get into there, or whatever. Just things to think about when trying to decide what sort of story to re-kick things off with.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āNo, no, no. That is a bad idea,ā Cypress Knee shook his head. āNormally, deyāre snappy, but dey been extra, extra snappy since that big storm came, tore up the swamp somethinā fierce.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āOh,ā Foxgloveās mind was racing. Because that sounded to her like it could have caused a number of problems, from blocking migration routes with downed trees to the rise of water destroying delicate food supplies to changing the lay of the land in a way that was simply unsettling to a creature that was large and therefore somewhat delicately attuned to an environment.Ā
Oh, how awful! Sheād been awful! Running away from something that needed help. Her face showed none of this, but on the inside, she was rolling on the ground and considering a wide variety of self-flagellation options. Iris stalks ā leaves? What exactly do you call the not flower part of an iris? Well, I guess theyāre individual plants, soā¦ āWhat about Bill?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āWhat.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āOh, youāre right, Iām sorry, this isnāt the time... What do they like to eat? Is it iris Bills?ā She brightened a little under the familiar, joyful prospect of feeding dangerous creatures.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āThey eat you!ā The big ponyās voice was a high and desperate wail. He was almost on his knees. āLook, you do not want to go in there ā I heardā¦ Well, everyone who grew up hereās heard stories.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āDonāt be silly. Did you see those tusks? Theyāre primarily diggers and uprooters. Itās probably roots, and lots of them. Maybe old trees...ā Images of various animal jaw-structures flashed through her mind. Foxglove was smiling now; it was all coming together in a crystalline plan to help some things and maybe get her umbrella back! āWe should probably start with something to feed them.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āā¦Thereās no we.ā
In the moment after Cypress Knee spoke, all the sound in the world came rushing in: the croaking of frogs, filling all the near and middle and far distances from here to the end of the globe; the slow current of the bayou, barely moving over branches and around trees; the cry of a red-tailed hawk, circling somewhere overhead; and closer, Foxglove the fox shaking water out of his tail. Foxglove was totally still, filling in the silence.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āLook, you seemā¦ā He hesitated, looking for an accurate word to sum up the experience heād been having today. He chewed at it for a time. āā¦Interesting. Anā not a bad filly. Anā Iām sure this thing is important to you.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā She did not try and argue.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āBut look, cher, Iām not going to get myself killed for some crazy stranger. No one should go and get themselves killed ā you neither. Dis is where I get off dis here ride.ā He tried to gauge her reaction, but had made an involuntary sort of guess; he winced sympathetically, or in anticipation.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Foxglove didnāt react. Not at first. This was not new. It was the oldest thing in her world. Sheād learned her lessons well, and understood all the things, layered one on top of another, that ensured it: that the sort of person who could get help from a stranger ā no, who could just go a few minutes without being led gently away ā was totally different from her. Focused, and good with words, and clear about what she wanted, and louder, and didnāt waste everyoneās time. Sheād had the gap between herself and that person outlined so clearly she might have been able to paint a portrait.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā And what she knew she should do, when she felt that outline pressing up against her again, was not to show it. Nod, and do not cry. So that is what she did, her eyes down and unfocused, the long lashes concealing whether she was thinking anything at all. Even her ears, normally loose in their floppy expressiveness ā more so than much of her face ā were perfectly straight. Showed she was listening. Important, to definitely be listening. Only the slight downward cast to her posture gave any sign she felt anything. Foxglove the Fox looked up from his sodden tail and pressed against her leg, shooting her concerned looks.
Vague and dream-like visions swam in her head, cycling through things ā her time at home, and her time spending the school year in little towns on the edge of the wilderness, and today, and the Boar Ogreās face, looming, tusks gleaming with wet mud.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā It has to be tiring work, digging through the mud, she thought. Itād just slosh back into place. Thinking about that made it easier, and eventually, her expression thawed.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āThatās fine. I think I might still be going back,ā She tilted her head and gave this some thought. āBut I think Iād like it to actually be forwardā¦ā She turned her head up the bayou towards where she started. āā¦Thereās probably a bit of Northeast to it, tooā¦ā Cypress Knee shook his head, which reminded Foxglove that she had had a point. āOh, Foxglove, Tweedle, say goodbye.ā The fox glared. The hydra gave him a double-headed little nod. āAnd me, too. Goodbye.ā She nodded vaguely before heading back down the dock and, recalling that they were on the other side from their starting point, leaping back into the water. It was probably good he didnāt actually give her a towel to dry off just yet, he decided.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āOh, um, thank you for fishing me out,ā She said from more or less the same, in-the-middle-of-the-water position sheād met him in. The hydra bellyflopped back into the slow current, soaking the irritated fox who, looking like he was making the only smart decision (besides not going back in at all), simply jumped onto the island of the creatureās broad back. āIt was a lovely boat ride.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āTwerenāt nothing,ā He said, watching her as she swam off. āWeird filly,ā he muttered under his breath. This would be a thing to tell the colts down at the bar, heād tell you what.
The author once wrote an "about the author" of which she was rather fond, but it's both much too...
Someone made a modblog so that she can post unrelated art/custom ponies without worrying too much about cluttering this one (which she promises she will post to soon, she has stuff to scan, why is she not scanning it?)
Can you guess who it is? Itās me.
Still need to work out how to do, navigationally, some things I intend to do. But thatāll come later.
Isā¦Is that the big heart, or the little one? Well, Iāll assume little one.Ā
Love to Foxglove means something different when applied to herself than other people ā I think. For Foxglove, to Foxglove, love means being forgiven ā for your faults, or your errors, or that you sometimes talk too much, or talk too little, or just canāt quite regulate what youāre talking about? Or that maybe you donāt pay great attention and mess upā¦ That sort of thing. It doesnāt mean those things arenāt true, or that people donāt see it, but that you are tolerated anyway.Ā
I think that Foxglove sees her love for her animal friends as part of wanting to make things go well for them, or to keep being with them ā they become a part of herĀ āworld,ā in the Foxglovian sense of the term (which is not so much a physical as emotional space, which frankly deserves its own discussion all to itself).
ā„ - What does āloveā mean to them?
ā - What are they afraid of?
ā¦ - What is one thing about them that they are most proud of?
ā£ - What is one thing that they find embarrassing? (About them, others, things in general)
ā - Do they prefer daytime or nighttime and why?
ā¾- Are they prone to nightmares or dreamless sleep?
ā¼ - Something that/Someone who makes them happy.
ā - If theyāre caught out in the rain how do they react?
āŖ - Are they musically inclined?
ā« - What kind of music do they enjoy?
ā - How do they react to praise?
ā - How do they handle rejection?
āŗ - Do they prefer sour or sweet treats?
ā -Ā Favorite season and why?
ā® - Do they have an idol or someone they look up to?
ā¤ - Do they have a love interest?
ā - Who is someone they just cannot stand?
ā - Do they value loyalty?
ā - Do they trust easily?
[ !!!!REMEMBER TO INCLUDE THE MUSE YOU WANT TO ASK!!!!! ]
Imagine, if you will, a wild forest. The moon is full, and casts dashes of cold light onto trees, the leaves, the ground. The forest is full of eyes. A traveler sees a figure on the path up ahead, a pale slip of mare with vast, empty eyes. She stands, frozen, in the road. It looks like she is seeing the travelerās soul, or nothing, but certainly not the ordinary world in which the traveler lives.Ā
She mutters something strange and meaningless, a thin voice in the cold -- something about a city of lost princesses on the moon who have never come down, perhaps -- and then turns and melts into the woods, as if she never was.
Oh, wait, that is not a ghost. Thatās how Foxglove is all the time.
Actual ghost Foxglove, though, would likely be a weird sort of local legend in whatever locale she died in. Whose woods those are, they think they know. The creatures of those woods are peaceable some nights -- when the wood is full of song -- and foals (or just people who might be upset at being lost in general) who get lost always end up back at the edge of the woods, having met a strange pony who spoke to them gently and showed them the way out, wait until you meet her -- oh. She's already left, they guess.
She appears when you cry alone -- or when you are trying very hard not to cry, when the woods are just too much. Sometimes, she introduces herself as a ghost, but very often -- even when she is walking through the trees or floating along the treetop, dreaming of worlds -- she forgets entirely. It is very lonely, sometimes, and she is only good at talking to people when the vulnerability in her meets the vulnerability in them, and the woods are lovely and ask nothing of her.Ā
So, Iāve been working on more custom ponies lately (Actually, Iāve got 3 in the pipe, in various stages of completion, right now), so I thought Iād finally get to showing off the one I finished a few months ago.
His name is Blue Yonder, and heās my first attempt at... A bunch of things, actually. Sculpting (I can see places where itās cracked in these pictures I didnāt see in person -- donāt know if itās a flaw with my paperclay junk, or if itās the result of my lengthy -- and doomed -- struggles to boil perm non-nylon faux hair, or the manhandling that resulted when I noticed that said struggle resulted in his forelegs being fused. Iāll just paint over those spots), Gen 4 Ponies, making a scarf to cover the neck wounds created from the fact that I really had no experience cutting out that awful. Also sponge painting his little spots on! On the whole, Iām pretty pleased with all of these things, give or take: certainly, I think itās a good first attempt with any of these things.
Boy, is this sucker tiny. Iām a little stunned at myself for making that balloon.
Technical details aside, hereās the impromptu profile for this impromptu pony. Heās Blue Yonder, explorer and hot air balloon pilot. The unicorn son of two pegasi (That makes sense, right? Well, they certainly didnāt see it coming), he grew up longing for the sky -- for his parentās happiness and approval after theyād been pretty much forced to move from Cloudsdale to raise him, for a āmore completeā place in his own family, for something that seemed denied him by some fluke of genetics... Ā And so he began seeking out the sky. Balloons, planes, propellers, strapping himself to flocks of birds -- he tried everything just to get up into the air. And, eventually, he became pretty good with hot air balloons. And somehow, none of it was what he thought it was. It didnāt really change anything at all. Perhaps heād have abandoned the whole venture, except for one trip, where a storm had been kicked up out of schedule (or maybe he just hadnāt checked), and knocked his balloon off course, sending him flying across Equestria all night. By the time he got his altitude under control and his bearings, it was nearly dawn.
And he watched the sun come up over the mountains, the sky turning shades of gold and lavender and misty, foggy, blue-grey... And he realized something in his heart. Being a unicorn hadnāt taken the sky from him. Nothing could. It was a thing unto itself, and it was something he could have for no reason but itself. He was free. It was all free.Ā
He got his cutiemark that day, and began carrying folks and things and exploring in his hot air balloon, where he drifts to this day. Heās the sort of who mixes the practical and the philosophical pretty easily -- you have to have your hooves on the ground to build castles in the sky, or something like that. He just has too much time to think while heās up there, but heās more or less to drift through life, just seeing what it offers.
I know I normally donāt post rough comics here, but I figured Iād share some personal thoughts thatāve been rattling around in my mind for a while.
Iām thinking of putting more time and effort into my own personal, original content on this account and starting up a Tapastic account for a new comic series? But Iām not sure.
I suppose this is my way of asking for encouragementāyou guys have seen a lot of my fanwork, but do you guys think I could be successful in writing my own original comic?
Thank you for sharing this, Aimee. Itās scary and frustrating, when you donāt know what to do, or youāre confused, or youāre lost. But you want to know something? Everybody, from the tall to the small, is still learning. About everything. And if weāre all still learning, then weāre all lost together in one way or another. Nobody has all of the answers, not even about themselves.
Which is a long way of saying donāt worry if you donāt know why you make art. Itās okay not to know right now. The answer to that question is a deeply personal one, and one that evolves and grows as you do. The only way you can answer it is to press on, create things that speak to you, and keep an eye out for common threads. Find scenes, characters, stories that really fired you up. You know the ones; the ideas that burnt in your brain until they were too hot to hold, and you just had to share them with the world. Meditate on those sparks, and I bet youāll find insight into why you create. Maybe not right away, but itās a great place to start.
And in the meantime, keep making art! Donāt stop all production while you ponder. You can always use new material to help your inner thoughts along. Besides, you know you enjoy it, you know you have a gift for it, isnāt that reason enough?
(Take it from a professional over-thinker that, yes, this can be reason enough. :P)
This ties in neatly to what you ought to create right now. I have some more thoughts here, but Iād like to ask you something first; why is it that you want to create some non-fanwork work? Tell me a little more about your thoughts on fanwork vs. original content. Whatās different about them? Whatās one got over the other? Rather than make a bunch of assumptions, Iād like to hear where youāre at on these topics.
This is only tangentially related, but... I don't think a person needs a reason to create art, to be creating "for" something.Ā I mean, maybe thatās a little simplistic, but itās a point of view I can stand behind.
Ā I can't help but think of the creation of art as an end unto itself. You need a reason to do so no more than you need a reason to help somebody. Maybe even less, since you can also help somebody -- even you -- by doing so.
Maybe this sort of thinking is why I'll never make anything, like, revolutionary or amazing, or I'll never be a "real artist" or whatever. I think I can be contented as a writer just by continuing to try and master my craft, and pouring my love into my work -- and it will justify itself that way.Ā I learned to narrate stories inside my head before I realized that what I was doing -- no, that process of producing words inside my head Ā -- was even thinking.Ā So, uh, if there needs to be a reason, then I guess I've got a lot of reasoning to do. So I think itās good to create things for their own sake, and yours.Ā
(Oh, and while Iām at it... If you feel youāre in theĀ ābrainstorm something newā phase, stop and enjoy it! Brainstorming can be a lot of fun, and you donāt have to commit to anything immediately. Do sample pages and character sketches and whatever for things youāll never think about again. Taste the world inside your head.)
The sketch for this oneās relatively simple... Which is great, because the idea spawned an elaborate AU amongst my friends, with all our characters as dubiously competent changelings. Changeling!Foxglove has her characteristic difficulty with ponies (and other changelings), and a total obliviousness to (at the very least romantic) love besides, so she is not much called upon by the hive to do traditional changeling stuff -- shapeshifting, infiltrating ponies, replacing loved ones, collecting love, that sort of thing. Even if you do get her to be a convincing pony who doesnāt absentmindedly shift, sheāll probably end up being overly moved by her soft heart, so she wonāt be able to finish her job. The hive instead uses her to scout out possible living spaces, pacifying local animals, monsters, and dangers so itās safe for the hive to live there. No one in the hive knows how she does it, but dangerous monster attacks in the badlands went way down after they started sending her on these mission. Changeling!Foxglove, having comrades to whom she is always connected, is probably a bit more sociable than standard Foxglove... Which mostly just means faster, less hesitant nonsense.
Changeling!Foxglove probably gets by on the love of animals -- not unlike primary form Foxglove. Unless thatās not a thing that can work. Changelings are weird. (By the way, that was the last of those meme drawing requests I have.)
Ask and you shall receive! Those wings were smaller than I wanted, but I ran out of page space. It was fun getting to draw looong, looong legs. Just let my desire for lengthy limbs go nuts; now if only breezies had distinctly long necks, Iād be set. Theyād be like tiny giraffes.
I said I might do a moreĀ āPart of Your Worldā-inspired Seapony Foxglove Sketch, so I did. The longing to be a part of a different world is pretty much core Foxglove, so this idea was just too entertaining to resist. The role of Flounder will be handled by Tweedle, who I guess is a two-headed baby sea serpent of some sort in this AU. (Foxglove the fox is totally Sebastian in this scenario. 100%)Ā
I imagine this is in the middle of a rambly, disoriented,Ā āPart of your World.ā I should have gone for the big guns and done a more obviously Little Mermaid inspired shot, but I didnāt think about that until the sketch was done. Maybe Iāll do more... Seaponies are super easy to draw.
Is it even recognizably Foxglove, I wonder? It could be more like her, given the lack of other Foxglove identifiers...
