First Snow

There is something charming about the first proper snow of the year. The snow falls gently from the big grey sky, like dandruff falling from scalp. The flakes slowly build on each other until there are piles of white stuff everywhere.

I awoke one morning, and went about my normal routine:  crawl out of bed (literally), shower, get dressed, stare longingly at my bed and resist getting back in it… but as I stepped out of my front door, I hissed.

There were massive amounts of snow on the ground! I ran back inside and dressed myself more appropriately for the arctic tundra.

I eventually I made the trek to campus (500 yards) and went to class. After an hour in my class I geared myself to march back home. As I began my journey, I heard something…

What was it?

Is that… euphoria? 

 

She will get over the snow in three days when it is all crusty and brown. Over the years, her first memory of snow will fade and she will only remember the bitter cold and icy roads.

But her excitement was refreshing. 

I do actually like wearing warm clothes. I bundle myself until I resemble the state puft marshmallow man.

My favorite accessory, I must admit, are my mittens. Mostly because I just think that mittens are really funny. It’s like having a thumb and one big flat finger. I love when people wave at me when they are wearing mittens – I just giggle at them.

My favorite activity to do with my favorite accessory is using my mittened hand as a mitten monorail. I actually always use railings as a monorail – but mittens take the experience to another level.

The one of a kind Mitten Monorail has been incident free for 4 months. Mitten Monorail services is handicap accessible, service animals are welcome, and the driver is subject to blasting music of her choice.

Winter Winds

Fall is known for change,

The leaves change from green to red. Relationships turn from roses and chocolates to avoiding calls and back stabbing. Oh, and don’t forget the beginning stages of devastating seasonal depressive disorder. Yes, Fall is quite delightful. October is probably the best month out of the year. Not only do you have all of terrific leaves, relationships and depression, you’ve got my birthday – which we all know is everyone’s favorite day of the year – and there is Halloween, (Yes I did have four costumes this year) and don’t forget Canadian Thanksgiving. But around the middle of October I begin to have this hunger. A hunger so great it consumes me. No, I don’t mean like a hunger for blood or for human souls – I mean like a regular hunger. For food.

I can’t think of anything else! I am living from meal to meal trying to figure out where I am going to get my next fix. Forty-five minutes will have gone by from my last snack, and I start to fidget. I think of exactly what I am going to eat as soon as I get out of class. (For some reason Chinese food never sounds like a bad idea.)

All of this craving for massive amounts of food is just preparation for what happens next:

Hibernation.  

My stomach is all like: “Kourtney! You have got to get fat so you can sleep through the long hard winter ahead! If you don’t eat everything in sight, you will starve! STARVE!” My stomach doesn’t really get the whole guys-like-a-lady-with-a-slim-figure thing. But I always do as my stomach commands. 

You have no idea how many times I have texted my brother telling him what an Eatosaurus-Rex I am being. (He often does not reply.)

For some reason, every year for the past 4 years, the first week of November takes a major toll on my existence. Life says “Hold up, gurl!” And my existence slows down to a crawl.

After I get my annual proverbial punch to the face, I roll myself into a human blanket burrito. And there I stay for days on end. Thus the hibernation begins. 

In The Beginning.

I have been cartooning since I was very young. When I was in Jr. High, I had this crazy idea that I would be an animator or story board artist for Pixar when I grew up. But reality hit me. First: no one really grows up. Second: I hated being on computers for long periods of time. Third: I am a little snot and I don’t like drawing other people’s artwork.

So I became a studio artist.

I love being a studio artist and love making art that is very much an extension of myself.  I am very passionate about my work.

But my cartoons are the ones that actually get proper praise. So perhaps I chose the wrong career path....

Nah. What would people do without my angsty, dark, twisted, serial-killer-esque art?



As my life has changed so has my cartoon character. She seems to reflect the overall condition of my life at a certain point in time.

    At the end of 2010 we have this Kourtney:
(The “simple” Kourtney)
I had a really rough couple of months. All that mattered to me was sleeping and breathing. So you can see that my cartoons were very simple and for the most part content – focusing on little joys.

    Spring 2011:

(The “cheeky” Kourtney)

Kourtney is still simple for the most part, but she is a bit more cheeky. Things start to exaggerate.

   London, Fall 2011:

(The “I live in London-I’m so cultured” Kourtney)

 Living with 50 girls can really mess with a person. But my cartoons were quite delightful at this time. They became more detailed and the characters had coloured eyes.

   Early spring 2012:

(The “Apathetic” Kourtney)

 Colour became a big part of my drawing whereas it hadn’t really been necessary in the earlier versions. When I returned home from London I had a lot of things I had to deal with and a lot of the cartoons I did at that time were sort of apathetic to everything but small furry animals.

   Spring 2012:

(The “animated” Kourtney)

 Animation style made an appearance. Everything my character did was very exaggerated – but mostly grumpy.

    Summer 2012:

(The “cracked out” Kourtney)

The massive amounts of alone-ness and bitter irony during this time of my life defiantly showed in cartoon Kourtney. 

And it has stayed that way since.

Test

This is just a test to see how it will look for the time being.