For May 23rd, today is Pearl's turn.
For this day, I decided to make Shimmy, who, while walking on the bottom of the sea, came across a strange and beautiful Pearl
Father's (https://www.doodleaddicts.com/uploads/68546/cosmic-horror/) crooked hand, with six fingers (one looks like a fang) of different weird lengths (because He doesn't understand human anatomy well), holding a Gotham snow globe. And of course, the eyes. He loves eyes.
I introduced Wrecks awhile back as my anxiety and depression. The flip side to him is my happy, fun loving side. This little guy's job is to keep things positive and build me up. I'd like to introduce my good friend, Buil (Bill).
Patron Saint of Lost Keys and Small Things.
Reminded me of this poem by Elizabeth Bishop.
One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
For May 22nd, today is the day for waves.
For this day, I decided to make Tatienne, who sometimes loves to surf the most monstrous waves when she's on vacation
