Dotty has been itching to make another appearance for several days now. She tried last night in a journal page, but then changed her mind, citing a bad hair day. She liked that page though, so tried again today. She wanted to pay homage to classic 8-bit graphics from back in the day. She said she was still feeling the bad hair day and didn’t trust me with anything more complicated just yet.
She brought my attention to some ancient graph paper I had lying around waiting to become a background; “That. Draw me on that. You can erase easy, and the squares should give you a decent guide.”
I tried to explain that the size of the squares on the graph paper would mean she would need to be quite a bit bigger to look anything recognizable as herself; “no one will be able to tell it’s you if I make you too small. These squares are too big for smaller detail…”
She insisted on the graph paper anyway.
“Ok, but that means you won’t fit the page you like…”
“That’s ok. I’ll figure something else out for that page.”
I set to work lightly sketching her lines in. I then dug out fine-liner markers with which to give her some color. She complained about the background after noticing how pale her cloth was against the cream paper. We chatted for a bit. She threw around the ideas of a colored background (she really liked the green and purple markers I had). We talked a bit about contrast, and she eventually settled on a black background; “black is the most comfortable surrounding anyway… but don’t color in the whole page. I like this paper. Make sure some of it shows. Just do the black around me.”
“Will do. You’re the boss…”
If she could have smiled at this, she would have. She likes to think of herself as in charge. She picked the classic pose, though decided against the stool. She likes to use her noose as a swing; “the stool will get in the way of my feet and I won’t get the momentum I’m looking for…”
Check. No stool.
Now she is occupying herself swinging back and forth while we wait for another page in the bigger journal to dry. She tried to get me to put her on that page, but I had to explain she would cover too much of the happy timeline. I reminded her I have a hard enough time remembering the happy things, I don’t want to have to push her around trying to see what’s written. She pouted for a bit, then got distracted swinging again. It must be nice to have no spine, or lungs, or any other pesky vital organs that would make playing at the end of a noose quite impracticable…
(Dotty would like me to remind you that her more-complete story can be found here)
She got a bit excited when I told her she could go into the journal tonight. She feels at home now. She almost looks like a macabre cross stitch…