Hello Stranger,

Hello Stranger, I'm talking to you. [obrabet-artwork.tumblr.com]

It’s drawing near.

As some of you may know, the beginning of this Summer didn’t work out as planned. To be truthful, the entire thing seemed to have failed; every single bit of security we had fell beneath our feet, and left us flopping around in some big, black void of unknown. To be even MORE truthful, I was really angry. I was angry at myself for trusting anyone but myself to make the plans work; I was angry at my job for letting me down when I needed it most. I was angry at everyone. I was angry at everything.

Now, the end of this Summer is drawing near, and Grum and I are packing our bags once again for the third move in four months. Looking back on everything now, it seems like it was right. It seems like some big thing that makes a hell of a lot of sense — like the world said, “Kay, hold up, we’re gonna’ make some changes.” I HATED the beginning of this Summer; I have note after note after note (which I wrote at a job I acquired after I realized my previous work-plan wasn’t happening) that explains how much I believed I was in Hell. I’m not lying when I say I thought I was being punished in the worst ways, that life was finally piling on the straw that would inevitably break this camel’s back. It didn’t though. It didn’t break this camel’s back. I made it through, and Grum made it through, and his mum made it through. And despite everything, I’d say we did a pretty damned good job of getting our lives back on track after we were shit-kicked by the cosmos. 

Next month, Grum and I will be apart. I’ll be settling back into the big city, and he’ll remain here until the end of August to save up and prepare a bit more for the semester ahead. We both managed to work out school; which was one of the main reasons we moved here. We’ve decided to really push ourselves to do well, to have fun, and to calm our minds. Next Summer, we’ll do things right - but I know now that no matter what happens, it’ll end up being alright. After this Summer, I’m pretty confident that we can succeed. We can win.

Making the most of my sick day. I may be feeling like poop, but it won’t stop me from getting some drawing done.

Making the most of my sick day. I may be feeling like poop, but it won’t stop me from getting some drawing done.


Still not finished, but I wanted to post another progress shot! COLOURS.

Reblogged from obrabet-artwork


Still not finished, but I wanted to post another progress shot! COLOURS.

dannn said: Wait, so have I been following frogs this whole time?

I’m sorry, Dan. I’ve deceived you. I’ve deceived you all..

From Grumbledon and me to you.

Reblogged from teacupsandtaxidermy


Aki InomataWhy Not Hand Over a “Shelter” to Hermit Crabs? (2009)

"In this piece I gave hermit crabs shelters that I had made for them, and if they liked my shelters, they will take them as their shell.

"I connected my study of the hermit’s transformation to the self-adaptation of humans, whether it be in acquiring a new nationality, immigrating, or relocating. In this project I wanted to explore whether we really can choose the place or country where we live.

I used CT scanning to capture highly-detailed, three-dimentional rendering of an unoccupied seashell, which one of my hermit crabs had abandoned. Based on the tomography of the interior of the shell, I prototyped with rapid prototyping and produced several types of habitable shelters, Tokyo house-style and Paris apartments. I gave those shelters to my hermit crabs.”

The hermit crabs wearing the shelters I built for them, which imitate the architecture of various countries, appeared to be crossing various national borders. Though the body of the hermit crab is the same, according to the shell it is wearing, its appearance changes completely. It’s as if they were asking, “Who are you?”” 

How cool would it be to find out your best friend or partner was an alien?

  • Eating a yogurt/granola parfait on the balcony of my little apartment.
  • Enjoying the sun.
  • Listening to Night Riots.
  • Staring out at the trees and the lake stretching on in the distance.

Some things are just… perfect.

I don’t want to sound judgmental, but….

So, I work at a hardware store on the outskirts of this tiny town. It’s only for the Summer, and if you’re following along with the whole Kingston situation, you know that it was a last resort due to the fact that my cafe transfer didn’t work out because of a lack of hours. Now, I’m stuck in this department-style, campy Canadian hardware store surrounded by people who go to country bars on Thursday nights. 

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of country living. These people are often friendly and pleasant, but I think my living in both the West Coast and then Toronto conditioned me to a more open-minded class of people. I’m used to a more alternative crowd — alternative styles, alternative music tastes, alternative interests. Here, I get country-loving, techno-clubbing, anti-piercing groups of people who think women should be in the kitchen and men should be the only ones running the tool aisles. There are maybe one or two people I’ve spoken to who seem more open minded, regarding all things from sexuality, appearances and culture. Those two people are my favourites to work with because I feel I can have a real conversation, as opposed to the awkward sports talk I listen to in the staff room during lunch. 

I’ve had at least 15 comments about how “unusual” by braid is (I braid my hair to the side in a funky way most days), about 20 comments on how bad stretching my ears is, and at LEAST 10 people comment on how insane it is that I went into art school instead of police/correctional/trades. 

This experience, more than anything, has just really, REALLY made me miss my Toronto/Victoria friends. I want to go home, give them all a hug, hangout with them incessantly, and tell them how effing rad they are for accepting me and others around them for who they are. 


"Be a Woman, not a Girl."


Okay, so I have a HUGE problem with this article. If you have a moment, take a good read. 

I found this article on my facebook feed, preceded by an acquaintance’s addition of “Love this! It’s soooo true! <3.” Not only was I disgusted that one of my female friends would AGREE with this, but I was even more disgusted that such an article (of course, written by a man) would even exist. This is exactly my issue with gender roles and stereotypes; we feel that a person needs to fit into a VERY specific mould in order to be considered a certain thing. 

Now, I consider myself a woman, not a girl. I’m not entirely up to date on current affairs, I like my TV, I read comics more often than I read novels, I play video games, I laugh at the word butt, and I have countless insecurities. According to this article, these things would make me a girl as opposed to it’s more mature, more life-gained counterpart. Excuse me, but fuck that noise. I’ve earned the title “woman” through life experience, through learning, through heartbreak and big decisions and big fixes of those big decisions when things go wrong. I’ve earned the title “woman” through simply being able to CALL myself a woman without feeling weird about it. 

These types of articles put everyone in some weird spot where they can’t feel like what they ARE because they don’t fit all the requirements. That’s absolute bull. We are what we FEEL we are, and if our definitions of “woman” vs “girl” or “boy” vs “man” differ from someone else’s, then so be it. I’m tired of having such strict guidelines set as to how a person needs to act in order to be deemed worthy of a specific title.

Grum had an interesting point, which be brought up after I read the article to him. It was that some men might me more conditioned to think of people in those two definite categories (boy/man, girl/woman), because in our society, young boys are ALWAYS told to “be a man.” They taught from the get-go that they need to cross that line, that there IS a line, and that there are very specific rules that allow someone TO cross that line. He suggested that because of this, some men might be more convinced that there needs to BE a line at which we all cross to become something better than we are. But the biggest issue here is that this particular man, and most likely several men and women with him, believe that there are a finite set of characteristics that make someone mature, or make someone older, or make someone worthy of respect – I say respect because the girls which the author speaks about seem to be put below his much prized “women.” Am I a fan of the type of person he’s describing here when referring to girls? No, not really. I don’t get along with them, I don’t enjoy being around them, and I don’t relate to them. But I can safely say that I don’t think I’m BETTER than them; only that I have my preferences, and they have theirs, and they should be free to HAVE those preferences without discrimination.

To wrap this up, I just want to say that you don’t have to sit on some pedestal, acting like the perfect person, following all of the societal guidelines on how to be a mature and respectable person in order to be worth it. Like the things you like, have the limits you feel comfortable having, and be who you are, whether you’re a boy, woman, man, or girl – what you feel you are, you are, and no one writing some stinky article can tell you you’re not. 

Not even me.