I slither out of bed, before my two year old minion wakes so I can creep to my desk and draw the things I dream of. My secret lair is littered with notes and sketches of my evildoings. How would a hairy ghouly feel? Wiry? Soft? These things flit through my head when I suddenly see a smelly teenager emerge from his room. Quick! Run! Before he asks for a ride somewhere! I am a secret agent of the arts! Not a chauffeur!
I run to my room and get ready (and get the youngest minion ready) to go to my undercover job. As I travel to work, trees and leaves become snarling creatures to avoid, tractors are slow moving dinosaurs as my two-year old screams "BUS!!!CRACKTOR!" He's still working on the 't's. At work, my boss has steam coming out of her ears, my coworkers are in various states of cartoonish glee as my creativity bounds around the inside of my skull. Green skin, fanged teeth and spiders galore! After work and after the evil minions have been feed, I can sit and give in to what the secret agent artist has learned that day...scribbles to be scribbled, the dead to be painted, leading my horrors to come to life.
If you'd like to see more of Creepymama's artwork, please visit her and her sister, Olivia the Dollmaker at :
MORE PLEASE!!
ReplyDeleteLove your art and your writing, don't let the "civilians" hamper your twisted dreams!
Rock it, CreepyMama, rock it!