“Paganini - I- I- I can’t go on like this. I need your advice.” I cry melodically.

“Paganini is here, Paganini has no fear, Paganini will write a song from the sound of your tears” he screeched, and before I could stop him he leaped away like a frog towards his violin and perfectly matched the sound of my desperate pleas with a beautiful melody. 

“Paganini!” I cry woefully. “Please! I have a family! I have my whole life ahead of me!” 

Paganini did not listen. He just kept playing, spinning my melancholy into melody, my harm into harmonies, my tears into a tune. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” he croaked to himself. “Yes… It will be beautiful.”

With desperation, I brought out my little hand bell that I carry in case of emergencies.

“DING” the bell rang out - an E flat note. Paganini’s beady eyes lit up like diamonds.

“Hehehehee!” rasped the virtuoso. “Little bell, little bell! How wonderful your sound is! I shall name the piece… ‘La campanella!’”

“Paganini… no!” I’m kneeling now, overcome by despair. “I had to talk to a violist today and I need to know whether or not to find their address and burn it down but all you can do is play music!?”

A small sketch from work. I try to be friends with the procreate but it seems to me that it is not mutual.

Well since I have speedpaint for the first time (look sideye at Photoshop) I want to show it too.