My most important job! As head supervisor for desk building. I make sure mum and dad build it right!
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My most important job! As head supervisor for desk building. I make sure mum and dad build it right!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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THIS IS THE COOLEST THING IVE EVER MADE
scratchboard, woodcut, colored pencil, oil on canvas, (fake) cobweb, wire and decorative prop butterflies because hell yeah
this is over three feet across btw
working title is āEmetomorphasisā but iām not sure if the pun is obvious enough
The Tactile Cure for a Digital World
Lately, Iāve been haunted by a word: tactile.
It snuck into my thoughts somewhere between peeling back the parchment paper on a tray of lemon squares and leveling ground for an 8x8 shed Iāve never built before. For someone who claims they donāt like to cook, Iāve spent a suspicious amount of time this year elbow-deep in butter and flourāapple pies (both crumb and lattice), banana bread, key lime⦠the works. Not exactly health food, sure, but at least I know whatās in them. No barcodes. No preservatives. Just me, the ingredients, and a recipe that felt like a meditation.
Whatās strange is how much I enjoyed it. The measuring, the folding, the hands-on repetition that blurs thought into rhythm. The tactile nature of it. I used to think I was chasing productivity, but Iām starting to wonder if itās just feeling Iām after.
Even writerās block, that old familiar fog, clears faster when I ditch the keyboard and return to a simple notepad. Scratching out letters by handāimperfect, clumsy, texturedāsomehow pulls more clarity from my brain than the cold, flat tap of keys ever could. Maybe thereās something to the way the body learns before the mind understands. The friction is part of the thinking.
Same with this shed. What started as a cost-saving project quickly morphed into something else entirely. Iāve never leveled ground or set joists before, but I can tell you this: I feel every angle in my back, every decision in my palms. Each hour spent with a hammer teaches more than a dozen YouTube tutorials. I may end up with a crooked roof (NOT the goal here), but itāll be my crooked roof. And that means something. I checked with the county btw, no permits required if under 150 square feet :)
We live in a world optimized for ease, but maybe ease isnāt what we really crave. Maybe weāre starved for texture. Maybe we miss the subtle resistance of the real.
So hereās to what canāt be swiped away: warm dough beneath your fingers. Ink-stained paper. Sweat-soaked afternoons spent learning something the hard way. Maybe āproductiveā is overrated. Maybe we just need to touch something real.
We built a staircase! It's eco-friendly too. Reused thrown out lumber and recycled sand we made ourselves from food and beverage glass. A nice weekend project š
Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #184
When I woke up today, I wasn't in as much pain as I expected, given everything I did yesterday. I still didn't get quite enough hours of sleep, though, so I woke up with fuzzy soup brain. That is expected, though. It is allowed.
I had to get up early because I had an eye exam at 8:30 this morning. That means I had to wake at 7:30 so that I had enough time to get ready. J drove me there; I was aware that they were gonna dilate my pupils, and since pupil dilation leaves a person with impaired vision and increased sensitivity to light, it wasn't gonna be safe for me to drive back home.
Here's how that looks, in case you wondered:

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todayās project has beenā¦fun š