Or this...

Artrage and ultrafractal in this one. There's hundreds of drawings in my album, what does it all mean, ha,ha?

Public Secretary

And sometimes illustrations come out all by themselves. Mixture of Artrage, Photoshop and the endless world of fractals. Sometimes, I wonder if you took away fractals there would be nothing...anywhere...not even universes. Click to enlarge picture if you really have nothing else to do. Listening to Radio 4 on the headphones, it's a programme about religion or poetry, I'm not sure, because when I am drawing I swim in and out of deafness..."angels don't have freewill.".....they don't?

I wish I hadn't worn purple...

So, here I am with a new haircut, no, not the drawing...I mean in real life. And, I'm thinking...perhaps...on a good day...from a distance maybe...but hopefully someone might mistake me for the same genetic group as whatshername  Nancy? Duwellio yellio something. The one that went out with Sven the Swedish football guy?

When, Paco drops off Patrick outside and I am greeted by Paco's girlfriend.
"Oh a new haircut, Rosana?"
"Yes," I say smiling.
"You look so sweet."

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...............

Above done in Artrage. The software, not me.

Tattooed Lady in Flight.

Artrage, Ultrafractal 4.0 and Photoshop.

Tatooed lady who sees ghosties.

Time for a cup of tea...

Birdeez

The local school has come up with a horrific Orwellian idea of piped music pouring from the local fire/oops the nuclear has blown a fuse warning speakers. This means that every time children enter or leave schoolgrounds the entire town is subjected to truely awful cover songs of songs that were already awful in the original version. I think this is dreadful to brainwash children into thinking that this is even regarded as music. That, and the fact that the mothers are so aggressive in their driving techniques the local police have to stand guard at lunch and teatime to prevent them from running over each other in their enormous four by fours. What memories are these kids going to have?
Meanwhile, out back where they are building a monster villa with no view, there is a competition going on between the workmen from Andalucia who sing about dead things and the South American workmen who sing about their mothers. I have my headphones on.
The above done in Artrage.
Here's something pleasant to listen to.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIMrr2hODVM