in real life: I…went back to Seattle (again, wow) with my brothers. The novelty factor is gone. I also went to Tiffany Young’s concert, which gave me all sorts of feelings (I have been a fan for ten years…oof). And lastly, I am eating a lot of Halloween candy.


I tried making some pixel art, using the cool and free Piskel App.

A pink laptop with text that appears and then the screen flashes.
A messy drawing of a waterfall, grass, and a tree.
A two story house with a figure passing through the windows.

It’s an interesting and meticulous process. I’m a messy artist, so it’s challenging to do things precisely and to control the level of detail.


A pixel drawing grid, with a palette of 7 rainbow colours. On the grid I've drawn a strip of each colour.

from this sprouted an attempt at making some kind of pixel drawing app. It doesn’t really work, it’s more like it’s an appearance of working (the image isn’t real, it’s an HTML canvas with shapes, the drawing mechanism of click to colour pixel is hacky) but everything is an exercise! It was enjoyable to do. Maybe I can revisit this kind of thing when I’m further along my JS learning.


  • Recursion, by Blake Crouch. Big oof. This was engaging and depressing with a side of fridge horror. I thought about it all day. Now I’m eagerly waiting for my library hold on his other book, Dark Matter, to come in.
  • Frankissstein: A Love Story, by Jeanette Winterson. I bought this to read on a four-hour train ride and ended up not liking it. It’s about ideas. Characters monologue about AI and bodies and robots. I did enjoy Mary Shelley’s sections though. I haven’t read the original Frankenstein, so I’m missing context as well.
  • This is How You Lose the Time War, by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. Flowery, vague, flowery. It’s about two enemies that send letters back and forth. It’s light on the plot and setting—there’s a war happening and the mechanics aren’t elaborated on—and instead heavy (very very heavy) on the abstract and flowery language. Which, okay, I’m not into and I think it was a tad too much here, but this is an enemies-to-lovers narrative which is one of my favourite tropes. Also, WLW. So you know.

    “I wanted to say, your letter lives inside me in the most literal way possible, but didn’t—”

I also started reading something else but I’m sure that if I wrote it down here, I would never finish it. Books I publicly declare to be reading never get finished. Why is that!