Bruises on my knees and thigh from falling out of the bathroom last night. Remind me not to do that again.

I had been having trouble with my leg all day and forgot about it when I emerged from the bathroom; fell, spun around, fell onto the toilet and then on the floor. Very classy. I stayed on the ground, staring at the ceiling for a while in the hallway because there was nothing to pull myself up on. And then crawled/rolled into the livingroom and sat against the couch for five minutes trying to catch my breath before I finally managed to pull myself up.

The times I forget I’m disabled are the most dangerous times of the year.

A day in the life of Faye

  • Here's how a day in my life goes when it comes to painting...
  • Before work: Oh man! I'm gonna do so much painting later today! Oh man Oh man!
  • During work: I cannot freaking wait, it's going to be so awesome!
  • After work on the way home: Almost there!!!
  • Home: Yay painting! Oh! Cuppa tea first!
  • Still home: Oooo Tumblr. Oooo Facebook.
  • A little later: Gotta pee! Too much tea!
  • Five minutes after: I'm starving!
  • Ten minutes after: Ok, maybe I should make dinner and THEN I'll paint.
  • Twenty minutes later: Omnomnomnom.
  • After dinner: Ugh so full.
  • Still after dinner: Ok, I'll paint in an hour.
  • An hour later: Ooo, new episode of Revenge!
  • After Revenge: Ooooo so much stuff on Tumblr!
  • After midnight: Ok! Let's paint.
  • 1 AM: Shit! Is it that time?
  • Five minutes later: But painting.
  • Five minutes later: ZzzzZZzzz.
Sketchbook Project. The whole point of my sketchbook is to make myself extremely uncomfortable. This means I can’t do stuff digitally (meaning I can’t edit the shit out of this stuff) and all I can draw are self portraits, and I can’t do super duper realism and I can’t spend longer than ten minutes on each drawing. I also don’t get proportional guidelines. Don’t worry, I won’t post all of them. I may or may not get sick of self and might or might not draw other people.
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Sketchbook Project. The whole point of my sketchbook is to make myself extremely uncomfortable. This means I can’t do stuff digitally (meaning I can’t edit the shit out of this stuff) and all I can draw are self portraits, and I can’t do super duper realism and I can’t spend longer than ten minutes on each drawing. I also don’t get proportional guidelines. Don’t worry, I won’t post all of them. I may or may not get sick of self and might or might not draw other people.

fayestardust:

This happened.

Oh hello. Who are these handsome fuckers?

#lookatmebefunny #whydidthisgetsomanyreblogssuddenly

(via darrensveins)

Source: fayestardust

Dear friends! I just ordered a batch of my new art books, with all my art that I painted in 2012. That’s 33 high resolution full colour prints in one book! They’ll be 65 dollars/50 euros/40 pounds including shipping and I’ll sign them and write a personal message inside! If you’re in the US, you’ll get them in March/April, when I’m there! There’ll be only 15 available! Reserve yours now by letting me know that you want one in the replies, my askbox or send me an e-mail at fayestardust@gmail.com!
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Dear friends!

I just ordered a batch of my new art books, with all my art that I painted in 2012. That’s 33 high resolution full colour prints in one book!

They’ll be 65 dollars/50 euros/40 pounds including shipping and I’ll sign them and write a personal message inside!

If you’re in the US, you’ll get them in March/April, when I’m there!

There’ll be only 15 available! Reserve yours now by letting me know that you want one in the replies, my askbox or send me an e-mail at fayestardust@gmail.com!

This hat has a story. In 2010 I went in Scotland with my friend Mary from the US, visiting Glasgow and Edinburgh and general Scotlandish areas. One day we go out to Loch Lomond. We have a nice little tour of the lake and then go to a tavern nearby, when suddenly, we hear music. We can’t really tell where it’s coming from though.  Imagine, I’m with my friend and her very very Scottish other friend and his wife. Basically, I thought I’d reached the summit of Scots. But anyway, we all pack up our stuff and on we go to look for the source of the music. We end up at a camping spot, and outside on picnic benches, in the freezing cold, are about forty men and women, dressed in traditional Jacobite attire. Full tartan and weaponry, too. They’re very merry. Turns out we’ve stumbled into their annual meeting, during which they reenact old battles and tell tales of how the true king of Scotland will one day claim the throne. This hat was gifted to me by a clansman, who made me honorary member of their clan (which is called Na Fir Dileas or “The Loyal Men”) by giving me a piece of tartan. He then proceeded to very drunkenly sing me a very American love song. Na Fir Dileas are a cultural, historical and heritage awareness group whose membership is open to all persons over the age of eighteen years regardless of their sex, race, creed or religion and providing that they agree to abide by the “rules and regulations” of Na Fir Dileas, and that they can prove themselves to be of high moral worth and good social standing. 
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This hat has a story. In 2010 I went in Scotland with my friend Mary from the US, visiting Glasgow and Edinburgh and general Scotlandish areas.

One day we go out to Loch Lomond. We have a nice little tour of the lake and then go to a tavern nearby, when suddenly, we hear music. We can’t really tell where it’s coming from though. 

Imagine, I’m with my friend and her very very Scottish other friend and his wife. Basically, I thought I’d reached the summit of Scots. But anyway, we all pack up our stuff and on we go to look for the source of the music.

We end up at a camping spot, and outside on picnic benches, in the freezing cold, are about forty men and women, dressed in traditional Jacobite attire. Full tartan and weaponry, too. They’re very merry.

Turns out we’ve stumbled into their annual meeting, during which they reenact old battles and tell tales of how the true king of Scotland will one day claim the throne.

This hat was gifted to me by a clansman, who made me honorary member of their clan (which is called Na Fir Dileas or “The Loyal Men”) by giving me a piece of tartan. He then proceeded to very drunkenly sing me a very American love song.

Na Fir Dileas are a cultural, historical and heritage awareness group whose membership is open to all persons over the age of eighteen years regardless of their sex, race, creed or religion and providing that they agree to abide by the “rules and regulations” of Na Fir Dileas, and that they can prove themselves to be of high moral worth and good social standing.

 

Aly asked me stuff. So I have to answer.

1. How’s your day going?

Pretty darn good except I overslept this morning so I had to shower, get dressed, moisturize, brush teeth and hair and accumulate all my things for work in under 30 minutes. I succeeded.

2. Favorite color?

Uh. I don’t have one. 

3. Animal?

ANIMAL! (???)

4. List of TV shows you watch regularly.

Once Upon A Time

Glee

Revenge

Doctor Who

Merlin

Elementary

Grey’s Anatomy

The New Normal

Supernatural

Downton Abbey 

5. Favorite movie?

The Social Network.

6. Song you last listened to.

Live an Die by the Avett Brothers

7. #1 pet peeve.

When people start sentences with “I’m sorry, but…” or “No offense” when it’s clear that they’re not sorry and that they’re going to be offensive.

8. Finish this sentence without using the word “never”: “Better late than ____.”

Better late than yesterday.

9. What would be your instinct to do if a horde of zombies came after you and you were with your BFF?

Use my wheelchair as a battering ram? Clearly. Let’s go zombie bowling.

10. Favorite celebrity butt?

BUTT.

11. Can I touch your butt?

Er, sure?