Jashtober 2024 - Blog Posts

So... this may be 5 days late... but I have a reason! (The art corrupted twice + life got in the way.)

Flash warning, perhaps?? It's also. really bright.

Me when I forcibly mix the two -Tobers I'm doing. 😁 (I wanted to do this for at least one of the prompts, but I seem to be running out! 😥)

Jashtober day 29: Harmony! We're getting awfully close to the end...

Me when I wreck my ship.. 😔

Jashtober day 27! Night! I really like this one. :)

Jashtober day 26!!! Icarus is real, guys!

Jashtober day 25! And 13... I never did do that one, haha!

Me when I'm a mouse.

Me when I'm eating my landlord.

Me when my tober is jashing.

Oh no! I've stopped the trend of putting lyrics in the art! 😥

(I couldn't think of any lyrics...)

Jashtober day 20!!!! This is actually a redo of last year's Monarch drawing! I remember loving that one when I made it, so I decided to see how much I've improved since then with this. :)

vv Last year's drawing. vv

Jashtober day 19!! This is a bit lazy, but I wanted to go a bit harder on day 20 and still be on time!

I'm not late, you're late! (I've been really busy lately.)

There were NO reference images for the pose or the lighting! That's so crazy to me!

Jashtober days 16 & 17!! So proud of 17. (No, that is not the jash. 😔)

🔥🔥🔥

I forgot to post this yesterday!! Oh no!

Jashtober day 15. :)

I KNOW I need to do day 13, but this one is just so much cooler...

Anyways, Jashtober!

vv My list! vv

Jashtober day 9!!

vv My list! vv

Jashtober day 8!!!

vv My list! vv

Day 3 & 4 of Goretober & Jashtober!!

vv My lists! vv

Day 2 of Goretober & Jashtober!!!

vv My lists! vv

Jashtober day 12: Haiku

I like Chonny Jash

Both covers and originals 

Haikus are easy

Jashtober day 11: 8-bit

There's nothing quite like a dusty old console. The substantial feeling you get when putting a cartridge into the slot. The whirring that emanates from the system as you wait for it to boot up. Even when never experiencing one in childhood, it feels like a nostalgia machine. I get a giddy feeling when I sit down with a stack of these old games with me. All these possibilities. In many ways, modern innovations have brought much fluff. These games didn’t have such luxury. They had to be tight and straight forward. In many ways they feel like the past itself. It makes sense. The world was simpler and easier to navigate. Well that’s how it feels anyway, but I know that’s not true. As much as I want it to be true, that the world was less complex and more composed, it simply isn't. Have you ever tried to play the first Zelda or Metroid without a map or guide through. It's nigh impossible. The world’s intricacies and confusions have always been the only constant. Perhaps that’s for the best. At least the world isn’t getting worse, just different. Maybe even better.

Jashtober day 10: Apathy (TW: intense at points)

How dare he. After all I’ve done for this vessel. He calls me a madman and dares to shoot at me in the same breath. I should kill him. I should strangle him on the spot. I can only wish I had nerves in these mechanical arms, so I could feel the warmth leave his neck… No, no. I must calm down. My absolution has no room for such emotions. If I kill him I have no idea what could happen. It could be killing us all for all I know. Even if we didn’t die on the spot, soul would never forgive me. Harmonia would never be impossible. If only heart had such foresight. Doesn’t matter. He missed completely. Not even close. Perhaps that fit of rage where I dislocated his eyes, wasn’t all bad. Luckily, I’ve had the perfect plan to quell this entropy, dissonance, and violence. Utter, holy, and just. Perfect apathy. My plan just needed a place to put heart and it looks like he dug a perfect little prison. A hole made for me. The irony is delicious. After that murder attempt, soul isn’t very happy with heart. It’s the perfect situation for me to make my move. I already see the throne and how wonderfully built for me it is. I hope he rots in that hole. I hope he feels the hate we all feel for him. He has kept us from perfection. A soul so complete and absolute. It only makes sense for a being made to make perfect, logical decisions to rule. I will stop this stalling, that demon has caused. He thinks of me as Hyde? Fine, I’ll give him hell. I’ll take control away and become the one in power. He has taken everything from me. My voice, my hands, the kingdom which is rightfully mine, and he still feels that is not enough and tries to take my life. I won’t take his voice, I know it’ll hurt him much more to know that no one is listening to his ridiculous songs. I’ll make him wish he was dead. I’ll make him wish he had turned that gun on himself. I’ll make him wish for the same apathy afforded to me and soul. 

Jashtober day 9: Cruisin'

Maybe it’ll be ok for now. The war feels fresh, but perhaps it never existed at all. Maybe it did exist, but it doesn't matter now. I’m alright. The world is composed. Everything around me makes sense. Exactly as it should. I wonder if I’m a new person after all this time. When I first played this song my context was completely different. The way I told the story was of a different style and experience. I find myself hesitating to even attempt it once more. If I am a new person, will even trying it feel wrong. If I’m not a new person, will it just be derivative slop? Why am I even attempting this? Wait, that's exactly what I need to remember. Why I am doing this. The world feels manageable and understandable. The horrors aren’t close and the stars are in grabbing distance. The world is just as it needs to be. I may be revisiting this, but I have new understanding to bring. And I may be changing the synth for jazz, but I’m not a completely new person just because some has changed. Whatever comes of this has come from me. It’ll be not perfect, but it will be mine. 

Jashtober day 8: Tidal

The water pulls in and out...

That is how oceans work after all. I’m not going to regale you with an epic story told with far too verbose diction and a pension for self indulgent endings. What I will give you is a regalement of how to start your own life on the tides. Living upon a boat is not for the faint of heart. It takes sturdy legs, a strong stomach, and a touch of insanity in the brain. You have to learn to catch your own fish, because there’s no way in Davy Jones' locker, another member of the crew will share. It’s best not to start as a hothead. No matter how big you are and no matter how good of a fighter you are, there is always someone bigger and someone who’s a better fighter on your boat. It’s also best to ask a captain what their goal is in sailing before joining the ship. If they mention a whale, especially of the white variety, run. It seldom turns out well. Fishing boats are the safest bet, but they're also a dead boring choice and trust me lads, lasses, and lords, you don't wanna be boring. Now those hunting for some almost forgotten treasure are the perfect choice. Sure, there may or may not be the occasional mutiny, but danger is the spice of life. That's about it for living out on the seas. Oh wait, how could i forget. Invest in daggers. All right you scamps, get out there. I assure you it’s much easier than it sounds (after about 43,830 hours).

Jashtober day 7: Moss

 I look upon this world and I see beauty. It is finite and it is easily defiled, but it is beautiful. A set of random events caused one single-celled organism to evolve and split into a system of complex webs and ecosystems. Each animal, plant, and bacteria rely on each other to prevent their lives from falling into entropy. I was formed from the cosmos. Perhaps from a dying star or a collapsing blackhole. Maybe even the big bang. Whatever it was has long ago left my memory. I’ve seen every dwarf planet and neutron star, but this– this is amazing. I learn of the humans’ fascination with space and find myself confused. They talk about space's vastness compared to the earth’s tiny nature in the grand scheme. I reply: the desert is large and the oasis small, but that doesn’t make the oasis any less brilliant. The simple and elegant greens and blues that twist and entwine. The water and greenery bring life to everything around it and in return the animals bring their own life to sustain the greenery . Much more interesting than the grains of sand we call the universe. As strange as the humans’ ideas may be, I can not help but find peace and familiarity within the little creatures. They’re like microcosms of myself. Loving and hateful. Hopeful and nihilistic. Elated and bored. A being of gorgeous inspiration and disgusting shame. They see the same love in nature as I do. Well, some of them do. They might even be better than myself. They've created things I wish I could claim to be of my hands. Noises into music, shapes into art, and symbols into writing. I’ve collected as much of it into myself as I can and it’s wonderful. To be human is to be everything that is the oasis, right on the cusp of finding the mysteries in the desert. I suppose I would be those mysteries. I hope they never find me or any other of those mysteries. I am not grand, not as grand as the moss that grows on the trees. Not as grand as the fungi sprouting from the dew. Not as grand as flowers that sprout despite a prison of concrete. Not as grand as mammals that manage in the water. Not as grand horrors that creak in the darkness. Not as grand as the animals that once ruled, forever entrapped in rock. Not as grand as burrows that keep warm during the cold months. Not as grand as the web perfectly crafted by a spider. Not as grand as each painting, ballad, and sonnet I intake. Not as grand as this oasis. Perhaps I shall learn from the humans and start a journal. First entry: legend of the moss.

Jashtober day 6: Forest

This is hopeless. I can’t seem to make my way out of this endless foliage. This unbearable weather beats upon my soft and fragile skin. My flesh can only take so much more of this punishment. From heat to cold during days and nights. Why does the closer I get to freedom make the perils feel even more present? This forest continues to mock me with its deceptively pleasant streaks. Some days and even full weeks, all I see is blue skies and chirping birds. Finding food is as simple as turning the next right. Those days are wonderful then I get snapped back into the cacophonous reality I’m stuck with. Sometimes it's a lighter pull into actuality, like a simple squirrel attack or not having no food for a day. Other times the corporeal truth of my existence is revealed to me more violently. Maybe a lightning storm or a less than kind bear encounter. When I was left in this worldly hellscape I was given just three things. A hunter knife, an all but entirely useless compass, and a lighter. I dared not use it up to this point. This place was littered with dry dead scenery. Even after the countless rain storms the surrounding area seemed to instantaneously dry back up after it was finished. Paired that with the distinct lack of any sort of rocks even after this endless wandering searching. If I ever dared to light a fire I risk setting this whole forest ablaze. Yet, as my apathy grows I consider lighting it up purposely more and more. Perhaps, then I can turn this metaphorical hell into a more literal one. But my selfishness hasn’t quite grown to that level, yet. 

Jashtober day 5: Angel

What have I done? I shot at him. I had to. His assessments. His methods. The vile trite he spews, then turns around and acts like it’s wisdom. He claims he will pull us into the light ,yet I see where this path leads in the end. Either the body dies from the soul’s exhaustion or the soul dies in order to keep the body going. Leaving an empty cadaver with only computer parts left inside to keep its joints from rusting and its eyes still blinking. I’d been practicing for weeks. First I attempted echolocation (I got surprisingly good, but not shooting a gun accurately, good). Then I tried shooting a dummy point blank (I realized after a few days of testing that method, mind would totally just smack it out of my hand). So I finally decided on just shooting it in the general direction of his voice. It did not work. So I’m stuck in this hole. Mind despises me more than ever and I’ve lost soul’s trust. What have I done? 

Jashtober day 4: light

What counts as glorious holy light? Is it the beams from the sun that power all life that inhabit this little blue and green marble, or is it the fluorescent light that brightens the churches. Is it the light that comes from within or is the power we gain from what others give us? Can one’s inner radiance from the tireless working of a greater goal or is it true that no person is an island, and the illumination will only be achieved through the movement of the community. Of course, there is an irony to me asking if it’s one or the other. Such a black and white world view. Every possible color and shade is shown by the light. Every blue, pink, and gold. Every black, white, and gray. Every fire yet to be burnt. Perhaps there is no ultimate glory light. Perhaps as I have thought many times before these zealots are as in the dark as the rest of us. And most importantly, perhaps that doesn’t matter. Every step that I take will land whether I have light or not. I can not rely upon anyone’s source of truth. I must find my own. No matter how many moon sets and sun rises it takes.