Cross-legged, In Bed, 1 am

Yesterday's Sketchbook

A rehash of the 'Holmes-ball' as Ubiquitouspitt calls it, with a face I like better; a couple of Moriarties; and my objection to the resurgence of poofy, baggy, gathered clothing, as seen in the high-end shops that line the route home. It doesn't even look good on the mannequins. Save tailoring!

Wednesday, Wednesday, Give Me Your Answer, Do...

Not meant for anyone in particular. Just my general sentiment. Tonight was life drawing but I sneaked in a couple of doodles: Irene Adler, who looks like Tealin's Standard Issue 19th Century Woman, and the Long White Hand which doesn't look anything at all like a horizontal version of Aunt Josephine's hand in The Wide Window. The bottle looks a lot like my ink bottle. IS THIS A COINCIDENCE? Is it lack of imagination? Or is it the state of my mind when I sit down at my desk in the morning, still groggy from having to wake up in the dark, and disoriented by not being able to start my day with PM, which leads to me blindly stumbling my way into the comforting orange/yellow arms of BBC7? It's CRACK, I tell you. CRACK. 'Specially now that Dr Pfeffer's [Inexplicably Addictive] Lonely Hearts Club is over. ... CRACK.

What's the verdict? Do we like Picasa? Or should I go back to Photobucket? Or use Photobucket for the blog but Picasa for a ... a searchable archive categorized by fandom, or something? (Wait a minute, isn't that what my webiste is for?)