Hey guys, so I have a friend and her name is Charlotte Peys and instead of having actual fingers, she has pencil-fingers. I know, right... weird. Five pencils on each hand. Most of them are greyleads of varying thickness, and she's also got one stumpy yellow pencil where her pinky would normally go. She keeps them very neatly sharpened at all times, which is admirable if not a tad dangerous. Her back scratching is divine though! And what she lacks in ability related to kneading cookie dough with her bare hands, she makes up for by being an incredibly good illustrator. I mean, she has pencil-fingers, so duh! How unjust a world do we live in that a girl born with pencil-fingers would be bad at drawing?
Pictured above is Charlotte's take on my name game shame scribble sheet, proof that 1) she's a very good illustrator and 2) those pencil-fingers are not going to waste! I like how she says "I think stones are living beings" because me too.
For more drawings you can visit her friendly internet home at www.charlottepeys.be and you'll see there's SO MUCH more to her than just fingers made of pencils. She also has hollow toes filled with lukewarm vegetable soup. See you guys!
Chilling out damp on your bed after a shower, hot sunshine leaking through the pale curtains, snacking on trail mix and listening to your favourite spotify playlist called Sad Music Just Cry. The moment where being lonely becomes being alone, and being alone becomes like a deep satisfying breath, in... then... ouuut. Also dancing to Taylor Swift in your undies and having funny conversations with yourself while you do the dishes, saying OHH MAAH GAWDDD to the steak knives and china plates, and serenading the delicious pasta bake you just made like you're Mariah Carey and you start to wonder, Am I Mariah Carey? Nobody is around to confirm or deny and you notice how good that feels, the not knowing.
15/11/2014 | Permalink