Okay, So, My Desk Collapsed Three Times Today, And OF COURSE Of All The Things To Fall Off And Smash,

Vampire's pearls.

My current coping mechanism is using a pair of big battered pliers to bend metal, so now there's another new item in my vampire hoard.

This is me now:

Be back to cat drawings this weekend. Busy week. And my brain's been weird for a while; it likely shows in my creations. I've got an eyeball ring on my desk right now, for crying out loud.

Goodness, what is going on?

(All Phantom of the Opera Cats)

Think of me

Je ne vais pas bien.

Idea hit me when I woke up, and it has given me a whole day of melancholia. As an artist, I have the ability to make it everybody else's problem, so that's what I'm trying to do.

Would someone who is better than me at drawing people please redraw this so I can be miserable about it properly? (I have the feeling cats will inject confusing comedy into the situation.)

I was reading POTO in French and remembered that this existed, and everything seems a little less bleak. Thank goodness for art.

I sometimes wonder if I'm selfish for spending my time and life on something so immaterial as art. I forget that it's what keeps me sane.

It's not escapism; it's a fight to understand. Immaterial is not the same as useless. It's easy to forget these things.

(I intended this reblog to be a joke about how I've forgotten Erik is French - I imagine him having an RP accent after watching the musical - but I got punched in the face by a dose of Doom and Gloom so here we are. Apologies.)

Local Sad French Man

2,500 "Yikes!" from me because I have no idea what just happened.

This started out as a replacement for my old account because it was glitching. When that was fixed, this one became my nonsense blog. Then SOMEHOW, SOME PEOPLE (who shall not be named but I'm sure you're all laughing now) pulled it along until it turned into a Phanart gallery.

Now, there are around 130 people here. Weeeell. I hope those who are here for Phantoms won't be bothered by the occasional shenanigans!

(This post has been in my drafts for ages - I haven't drawn anything new right now, so may as well drag this old codger out!)

ARGH.

Original posts: Nosferatu here and Lescat here.

Thank all of you who pressed the little funny buttons!

Spat out my tea reading my Dracula annotation.

[Ha! That's rich, talking like you have a coachman!]

Context: the great Count Dracula has no servants. Blood-slaves? Thralls to his hypnotism? Nah. Just little old him and three vampire ladies who don't help with the chores and try to steal his snacks (and/or his lawyer).

I may work at a desk so deeply buried in paraphernalia that I only have one small square of surface where I put either my keyboard OR sketchbook, but I insist that my phone apps have a uniform colour that matches the wallpaper.

Hold up.

Tumblr, care to explain yourself?

The Daroga and Raoul in the Torture Chamber:

Wireless drinking

Wrong answers only: What's Erik saying to the Persian?

I found this among my Pharoga doodles (don't ask; they'll come up to menace you soon enough). I've clean forgotten what I was going to caption it. It looks like ✨️drama✨️.

So, wrong answers only: what's going on?

(More Persian and gremlin bald cat Erik here and here.)