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Mammal in a Sunday Dress explores the uneasy relationship between femininity, civilisation, and the animal body. At first glance, the figure appears modest and withdrawn. Her posture is composed, her gaze seemingly lowered towards her bare feet, recalling the conventions of nineteenth-century portraiture where women were often depicted as passive objects of observation. Yet as the viewer moves closer, the illusion collapses. Her eyes are not lowered at all. She is looking directly back. The delayed eye contact transforms the encounter. The viewer approaches believing they are safely observing a woman; instead, they realise they have been observed themselves. The work refuses the traditional power dynamic of portraiture, denying the comfort of anonymous spectatorship. Looking becomes a reciprocal act. For Cox, the painting considers humanity's persistent desire to separate itself from the rest of the animal kingdom. The title quietly undermines this distinction. A "mammal" is not another creature—it is us. The Sunday dress, rich with cultural associations of femininity, morality, and respectability, becomes an attempt to distinguish ourselves from nature. Yet clothing cannot alter biology. Beneath lace and ritual remains the same vulnerable animal body. The work also reflects on the historical relationship between women and nature. Across art, religion, and philosophy, women have repeatedly been positioned as closer to instinct, emotion, reproduction, and the body itself, while men have been aligned with reason, culture, and civilisation. Mammal in a Sunday Dress does not reject this comparison. Instead, it questions why proximity to nature has so often been treated as something lesser. Chiaroscuro isolates the figure within darkness, allowing the luminous dress to symbolise the performance of civilisation while the bare feet quietly return the body to the earth. Neither is presented as more truthful than the other. The painting exists in the tension between performance and instinct, refinement and biology. Mammal in a Sunday Dress ultimately asks a simple but unsettling question: if every layer of culture were stripped away, what would remain? Not a king. Not a saint. Not a gentleman or a lady. Only another mammal, looking back.

right. your favorite character. who you've modded into an unrecognizable state. whose personality and motivations you've significantly altered on a fundamental level. that favorite character.

if i see one person complain that felicity and pippa’s relationship in the sweet far thing came out of nowhere i’m going to scream

A thing I'm really enjoying about Gentleman Bastards: Locke is genuninely devout. He's a sham priest of Perilandro, but a true beliver in the 13th. He sacrifices things, feels compelled to do things which fuck up his plans, he makes life so much harder for himself because that's the will of his strange god.

waaaay back when I was a cashier in retail we would talk about dumb shit while unloading the truck, and we got to the "what would you do in a zombie apocalypse" me and another worker were like yeah we would just die. End it all, we can't fight or run or shit. I refuse to put that much effort into survival.

Patricia Tannis is truly the character of all time. She's a mad scientist. She's autistic. She's bisexual. She has objectum sexuality. She's the leading scientific authority on her special interest. She's a condescending asshole to everyone. She watched all of her colleagues die and spent roughly two years in near total isolation while slowly descending into madness. She was in a polyamorous relationship with two chairs and watched one of them get tortured to death. She wants friends so badly. She hates social interaction to the point that someone saying hello to her in the street caused blood to spurt out of her nose once, and she considered this a win because it ended the conversation. Someone called her pretty one time and she dry-heaved into a bucket for four straight hours. She is known to bite. She steals people's shin bones. She takes power naps inside a monster carcass. She calls her secret lab a 'terror pavilion.' She thinks music and people who like it are stupid, except for this one singer she enjoys. She's deeply attached to the people in her life. She's currently one of the most powerful characters in the setting, and her scientific curiosity is what set all the events of the series into motion in the first place. Patron saint of strange and offputting women. More people should be obsessed with her.

Your dialogue is stiff because everyone is being too honest

more so,