Hiya

I am drawing very little in the past few... I dunno, years, and more often then not when I am drawing now is commissions.
I have always kept my smutty account separated to this, which I considered the "main" one, but I don't really see the point anymore, so:

 hym is the more active account at the moment, overflowing with rivers of (traditional media) smut.

Cheerio folks!

Still unemployed (way to go!) I'm going on a trip with my girlfriend; via train we'll travel across Spain and France. It'll be exciting!

See ya!

Right now I'm in between jobs, therefore I have some free time and, since I haven't done this much before, I wondered if someone would be interested in commissioning me stuff.
I usually don't ask for money, but right now it would help me out, so I was thinking of doing sketches at... I don't know, three, five bucks? That is, if someone is interested, obviously.

I now officially have a master's degree in archaeology and am officially unemployed.

Yay.

Today I learned that sir Terry Pratchett has died.
He was my favourite fantasy author and I learned most of my english reading his books.
He will be missed.

Thank you, sir Pratchett.

Buon natale! Merry xxxmas! Feliz Navidad! Bon noel! Bonduelle! Ping ping!
And other assorted greetings to all of you

"It was a bleary evening. Genzo looked out of the window in front of him, filled to the brim by an indefinite feeling of self-disgust, unhappiness and dissatisfaction. He could feel the stickiness of his unwashed hair, the coldness in his fingertips -it was, after all, winter and he swore he could feel the cold even in his comfortably warmed apartment-, the heavyness of his eyelids; if that wasn't enough, his back felt sore, almost painfully so. Try as he might he's never been able to wrap his head around the fact that exercise made him feel weary and exerted, but so was staying at home, cosy in his dismal brooding, looking at all those things he had to do in front of him. Things he's heardly even began to tackle all day.
Off-handedly registering a new ache in his right forearm he felt that he could sympathise with Sysiphus, for he too felt like he was futilely pushing a boulder uphill. Only his boulder was mostly a tangled mass of ambitions, sloth, self-pity and other, equally destructive, feelings. The worst part of this all, to his own reckoning, was that he brought the situation upon himself, fully aware of what he was doing, and that -probably (the use of the term was his sole comfort in this line of thought)- he was ok with it.
Genzo huffed lazily, that was quite a nasty piece of work; he wasn't completely sure if he had to be proud of himself to have figured it out or be worried that his elightened condition had not brought about the change he hoped for. Or he should have hoped for? In this whole convoluted tangle of feelings and beliefs Genzo was finding increasingly harder to tell his hopes apart from his reasonings and deductions. Perhaps that was his latest mistake, he pondered, trying to tell the two of them apart, perhaps there isn't a distinct bonduary anymore."

I was reading Kyell Gold's Volle while waiting for my professor in his office at the university. He arrived and I was about to put the book back when he asked me what I was reading; I answered him a fantasy-espionageish novel and, as I was saying that he gestured me for the book. Unthinkingly I proffed him said book.

Just as he gave it back to me I realized "Wait, did I just pass my boss a furry gay romance novel?"

Hello folks.
I hope you're all fine and having the time of your life, riding the wave and so on and so forth.
I haven't written a journal in months, though as I wrote some times ago I feel that journals are a thing that is usually skipped by watchers, I myself do so often. Journals remain, still, an appropriate way -I believe- to communicate stuff to those who have chosen to click that "+watch" button on your page. When I'm writing these I usually imagine being at my desk, in a room with those aforemenctioned people, talking to them; they -you, I guess- may choose not to listen, that's ok, but I nontheless have the (haughty? Preposterous?) feeling that my voice will be heard, my words read, if not heeded.
Why am I writing this? Because this is the reason why I don't write many journals: I'm ill at ease at speaking my mind.

With that out of the way I think I'm due to apologize to whomever has watched me recently hoping to see more of my egyptian gods' comic. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to stop doing it, I don't think I will, but still it occurred to me that I haven't uploaded anything on that matter, nor will I anytime soon.
I don't consider myself an artist; I like to draw, I like to write (though most of what I write is just RPG material), all in all I like to make up stuff, but I haven't had any artistic schooling, nor do I have the professionalism when it comes to the artistic endeavours. Professionalism is something that's become very important to me as of late, seeing as that of the archaeologist is my chosen job, one that in my own country is plagued with a lack of acknowledgment and poor working conditions (though, alas, this is something that plagues most jobs in our current ploitical and economical situation).
Why do I draw? I draw because I need to do it to take a load off my chest. Drawing is cathartic to me, but this is not the reason why I post on the internet my drawings, this being to stroke my own ego.
Everytime I read that someone was made to laugh by my comic, every time someone writes my that what I created is nice to look at, every time that someone watches me of favs my work, always I'm thrilled and honestly excited. It made me giddy, for example, reading that someone thought that I drew one of the best Anubis on FA (though I honestly can't say I agree with that statement), I actually showed the comment to my girlfriend -as I was reading it-out of giggidiness (she gave me a *look*).
Once more it might feel that I'm digressing, and perhaps I am, but what I meant to explain is that, due to what I just wrote I feel bad not to provide anything new to people who appreciated my work enough to click that one button that would have let them know if I threw some more bytes to the world wide web. I'm perhaps getting over my head with this, but if I weren't I wouldn't be grinding this gargantuan wall of text here.

Long story short: I'm sorry not to post anything new and worthwhile, folks.

That being said, my life is getting more and more fast and crowded with events every day. I'm studying the skeletons for my thesis, studying geoarcheaology, helping out with the organization of an archaeological event which will take place this sunday at the castelliere ligure of Guardamonte (AL-PV, Italy); having partecipated at some of the previous excavation campaigns there in the past I will be helping out with laboratories for kids like "the job of the archaeologist" or the pottery one. I will be also doing a comic to give out during this event. Anyways, stuff is happing, not always in the way I want them to, but all in all life is good. I'm running out of words so I'd better stop.

Goodnight folks, it's been a pleasure talking to you.

Amor c'ha nullo amato amar perdona

I've just finished reading a book for an exam and, since I've loved it, I highly raccomend it to everyone; It's called "Collapse: how societies choose to fail or succeed" by Jared Diamond.
I believe that everyone might benefit from knowing something about the mechanisms and processes that constitutes the impact of mankind on the environment and this book makes a wonderful job in giving an insight on the matter from various angles: archaeological, sociological, economical, anthropological and biological ones are all taken into account.
We are oft under the impression that the past is a distant thing that has little to do with us. It is not so, we are closely connected to the past since it is always intrinsecally present in our surroundings (and much more). I rather think that the author of this book has made a wonderful job in communicating this concept.

Truth to be told, I'm the last descendant of the legendary Blemmyes.
>:-/

Proof

It appears that today D&D turns 40.
Wow (such roleplay, many dices, very loss of social interaction, wow)

I haven't been playing D&D ever since I passed to Pathfinder, I guess one year ago, but since the two games aren't so different at heart, and since I reckon I've been playing this game almost half of my life I feel that some sort of celebration is due.
Over to the D&D site they suggested something like posting your very own first character sheet, which I think it's a rather nice idea.
...even though my first character sheet is pretty embarassing.

Anyways cheers, D&D, happy birthday!

I haven't had much time to draw anything of late. Well, no, actually I've drawn a lot, but on autocad, and it was just maps, plants and surveys. I miss drawing fuzzy things in armour.

I'm told to be true to myself and follow my heart.
I believe in the positive value of this suggestion and consider it a fundamental lesson.
I do not follow it.

In my lifetime I've read The Lord of the Rings three times.
The first time I was very young, I think I was ten, because I saw it had a big huge map (I liked books with maps) and it was fantasy. I didn't understand much of it then.
The second time I was 19, in the summer vacation after the end of the highschool's end. At that time I appreciated very much the epic tones of it, I had studied a great deal of greek literature and was fascinated by what connection I could find in the book to the ancient epic genre.
Last year, following an ancient desire of mine, I bought the book in english (I've always wanted to see how he really wrote, not some trasposition in another lenguage*). After a very long hiatus I finished reading it yesterday. I still appreciate it, but I now find that my judgement on each character has significantly changed.
Aragorn, of whom I was quite fond of, it now strikes me as a show off and a dick. He's the heir of everything and whatever and therefore better then you and if I just had wanted you dead, you short fat-assed hobbits, you already would be, boo! Scared? You should be. Or not, my sword is broken.
Gandalf's never been one of my favourites and I'm not the first guy to point out that he's nowhere to be found when you really need him (or his, conveniently, untempestive knowledge, like any good DM NPC).
Faramir, I liked the guy, and still do but I now think he's gotten tainted too by the "ohgoshI'msosadandwiseandwe'redamned" trope of most of the good guys in the book.
Merry and Pippin, I didn't hold them in any regard before but now I quite think they're cool. They don't drip gloom and wise sadness like the hukans and the elves and what have you but still, having fled from imprisonment minutes before, and fled for, what? Ten metres? They sit down and have a bite, and that is while still a battle is being fought not that far away. That's baddass.
Sam remains the coolest.
Gimli... I like dwarves. I didn't remember them to be such comics reliefs in the LotR. I'm sorry for him.
Now, for the grand finale, I will give a shoutout to those characters whom I found the most cool and worthy:
Hàma the doorwarden, whom gets degraded just because Aragorn and Gandalf were dicks. Later he dies as a hero so to show that you don't have to be sad and noble (and a dick) to be cool.
Ioreth, who is an adorable housewife and talks too much. Especially when other people try to do their little parade of entering the city, no you first.
Gorbag and Shagrat, uruk chieftains. Of all the book these two were those whose political commentary was more sensible and pragmatic, as well as delivering a CSI quality grade crime scene analisys. Too bad they killed eachother not far later, they could have been the real stars of the whole tale.

*I don't mean to diminish in any way the job or the role of book translators in any way. I just find it funny that ever so often what we read is not what the author actually wrote.

Dear happy,
diary Christmas, and so on and so forth.

Sincerely yours, FairDragoon.

Dear furries,
I have a question:
When it's very cold, how do dicknipples behave? Do they get turgid and hard like nipples, or do they shrink like penises?

My friend Martina would like to know the answer since I could not answer her myself.

Dear diary,
today I found out that there's an article in the italian Wikipedia on sparkledogs!
Well, I'll be damned if I knew it!




What? This is relevant guys! srsly! Guys, srsly!

Dear diary,

I'm going through a... crowded period. I feel almost like I'm playing one of those gestional games where you have to build cities and keep everything under control because shit keeps coming at you. I sucked at those kind of games: you could take for granted that I would build two houses and then they would catch fire because I forgot to keep one thing or another under control.
In the past few days I've accumulated stuff to do in a handful of days, and now I'm struggling against my idiotic schedule. It doesn't help that yesterday night I played Pathfinder until four in the morning (but it was loads of fun, even thiogh at the very end my character died).
Anyways, I wanted to post two more pages of the egyptian god comic before the end of this week but I won't be able to, I'm sorry. This is partly he reason why I never really pursued the creation of a webcomic, sticking insted to web galleries.
This saturday I'll be heading to Populonia to work, and I'll be away digging for the next month. It'll be super funand I'm really looking forwards to it. Except I'll be also working on my thesis so I'll be exceptionally busy.
Anyways, sorry again, bye bye for a while!

Dear diary,
an abstract from the third movie in The Gamers' series:

"furries are people the larpers make fun of and larpers are people that gamers make fun of"

I rreckon, therefore, that I'm in a strategic position to backstab those who make fun of me, being a furry and a gamer. All is going according to plans...

Dear diary,
Today I will share with you a terrible dark secret of mine: every time I receave a watch or a fav from someone new I scour their favourites, shouts, watchlist, et cetera, to see if I can figure out how they got to my work, as well as what is they might be appreciating of it, themes, characters (mostly Anubis) or whatever. I find this little search very intriguing.
Onwards to even less interesting facts: I'm sorry for the long hiatus in uploading new pages of the comic but I'm in the mountains with no needs of scanning a thing and little time to do anything beside pretending to be studying. Maybe I should transform that "pretending" in an actually, I'm working on it. Well, so long and thanks for all the fish!

Dear diary,
I just got back from a few days of camping with my girlfriend in liguria. I've never camped before and it's been very very fun to try that out. Liguria is a coastal region in northwestern Italy that has a very nice morphology with low mountains and plateaus that plunge directly in the sea, so, if you like trekking you can trek, with the possibility of ending the trip on the beach and have dip. That's been quite nice. Also, liguria is quite interesting also in an archaeological perspective, given that its caves (which are plenty) often had been inhabited during prehistoric times (throughout the late paleolithic and onwards). Here it's been found a famous prehistoric burial, the so-called "prince of Arene Candide" (arene candide=white sand, toponym of the cave in which it's been found) with his headgear made of cowrie shells and many other prestigious goods (hence "prince").
The trip back from my vacation has been quite an exodus, due to the terribly hot weather as well as problems with the trains, but I arrived home and today it's my birthday: now I'm a quarter of century old.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikiped.....gia_ligure.jpg

Dear diary,
An extract from an historical egiptian text, reguarding the reign of Pi(ankh)y:
"[...]after having dominated the north you advance, transforming the bulls in women![..]"

WTF?

Dear diary,
when players in a sci-fi mutation armageddon RPG setting try to get out of a crane box fail repetedly for ten minutes we have what one the the players himself described as the "puppies in a cardboard box" situation.

Also I find it very funny to play RPG in which is ridicusly easy to die (i.e. Warhammer fantasy roleplay) between Pathfinder session, just to see the way the players react to the various situations:
Gloomy corridor with pretty good chances of there being a boss at the end of it:
Pathfinder: CHARGE, LAUGH, BLOODLUST
Wh. F. RPG: I go the other way, kthnxbye