even Amazons get the blues

First: Happy 2nd Birthday to The Cage!

Second: I have to admit that I grow weary of attaching things to my
boobs, crotch, and nose. Even if they are really nifty things with color-change menus.

Having rushed several Random-Onics items into production recently*, I find myself feeling unenthusiastic about the prospect of gearing up again for Halloween--which probably means that I should just forget about the holiday, focus on whatever grabs my interest at the moment, and run with it. For me, the process of creation is more about learning how to do something new than about the end result. Once I've figured out the puzzle, I have zero interest in doing the same exact thing again--or sometimes even in finishing it the first time.

Because of this, my tendency has been to flit from challenge to challenge, leaving a trail of devastation and unfinished projects behind me. That's why Second Life seemed like such a perfect fit for me: the amount of time required to actually bring a project to fruition was considerably shorter than in real life, so I started out with grand hopes of making beautiful works of art, or becoming a top clothing or hair designer, or--ooo, look! Shiny!

Yes, my artistic ambitions have sunk to an all-time low...a low that is somewhere in the general vicinity of my privates.

Don't get me wrong; I don't feel especially bad about this. I have embraced the fact that I am the sort of person who is capable of appreciating both high art and poop jokes (although I have to admit that the latter seem to win out every time).

And yet, every once in a while, I think wistfully about my former high ideals, and ask myself what has happened to them. And then I glance over at the exploding toilet on my lawn...

~Onyx~

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*the new color-change version of my nipple propellors; an aluminum-foil dress/gown set; a new color-change version of my nose pencils; a toilet-paper pelvis stick with a color-change stick and base...um, did I miss anything?