man, love the handful of stupid grammatical typos in this thread ramble, some of which are autocorrect but some of which are me >:/

Anyway, circling back to writing: I think the fact that my dad in particular was always willing to play pretend with me, no matter how silly the game, went a long way toward encouraging the vast worlds I had in my head as well. I never really stopped playing pretend; I just wrote it all down instead

Drawing, for me, has always been supplemental to writing; I learned to draw so I could illustrated things I was seeing in my mind's eye, and they were almost always scenes or characters from stories.

Drawing in a serious way came later, and remains hobby-level to this day for me (as anyone who's looked at Mortal Machine can uh, tell :P), but the point at which I went from "occasionally sketching things" to "actively working to make myself better" was a HS friend who did furry art, actually.

This isn't to discount the fact that my parents really encouraged reading & I was allowed to read almost anything I wanted, unlike most other forms of media, so the seed for *writing the daydreams down* was seeded heavily and early.

One I saw last night

having the same exact fight with myself right now

but do they want to drive it through downtown Chicago? ;p

resurrect* ugh