Forever forlorn poet. Bipolar. Dad joking Daddy Dom. Vulgar and profane. Known to pontificate, but also prone to unhinged shitposting. DMs open. 18+ MDNI.
After three months of daily PT, my shoulder is starting to feel strong again. Down to 2 sessions per day from 3, and hoping to drop to 1 and add in some heavy lifting to build back up soon.
I have a USB drive reader that lets me drop in HDDs and SSDs. Storage is CHEAP AS FUCK these days. You can get a 10TB SSD on Amazon for under 200 bucks. Fill hard drives. Label them. Swap out as needed.
I have fallen in absolute love with mixed fruit bowls lately. Sates my sweet tooth, gives a great blend of texture, and a little extra fiber never hurts. Pumpkin seeds or other small nut types are a good addition as well.
The perspective is a little forced in this one because of the wide angle I used to try to get all the art in one shot. Here's a shot from right after renos were finished that give a more accurate perfection:
One of the outcomes of having been raised in a traveling family is that no particular place feels like home. I've been told I have a generically American accent with no particularly identifiable dialect.
This is part of why my having bought a home was so meaningful. My first set of roots.
There are a handful of other octopus pieces on my walls, including one painted with coffee, a triptych of India ink on newsprint, and a limited series woodblock print. My desk is also covered with them. I'm a little obsessed with octopuses.
Scrap iron/steel for the body (actual patina, not an effect), and copper for the eye inserts and the suckers. Here's another pic from his workshop when it was freshly completed.
