Maybe one day I'll use this game, I dunno.

https://bsky.app/profile/volumbran.bsky.social

I post here, mostly poetry.

Wow, thank you all very much. I'm very stoked to receive so much attention for my silly little doodles.

I'm not sure how to celebrate, so uhh....Thank you.

You are all allowed to ask my characters anything, and I'll try to answer with a drawing later.

Here's the character list:

Rezni Galgaia - Fey Fox
Sabba Aganor - Scape Goat
Kincorax "Kinky" Covoitus Cochlervine - Free Bird
Zen - Fairy Dragon
Nairlo - Moon Prince
Creazil - Golden Shadow Demon Dragon

I'm a system of personalities/spirits I've spent all of this last year discovering.

I've pushed against the idea of identifying as plural, and after a year of exploring...

I'm not plural, I'm an individual.

My experience of my system is that of a collective conscience, not a "carousel mind."

Anyway, expect alot of art to be centered around that strange experience.

I wish to master the craft of Vulpamancy, in every aspect! For #Foxtober
I will draw 1 foxy IP from a video game, cartoon, or comic for every day of #Foxtober


I will quickly run out of foxes which I love, please show me a Fox character from an IP you'd love to see me draw. (No OCs unless pals 😉)

Gonna start off with Jillas Jillos Jilles

Help, I'm a honeypot. See how sweet I am? Anyway, here's what this journal is about:

If you're Plural or a System, wanna talk about our experiences?

Watch the clock
'lil ol' fox

It just keeps passing us by.


Like a stream, with tiny gems being rolled along its bed, eventually to be buried in the sands, or lost in the ever widening delta of yesterday, sinking into the growing oceanic depths of the past.


How, oh how may I pluck those gems from the bed? Perhaps they're simply lost to the ages, and no chronomancy can reach towards for it, no necromancy can screech back for it. They simply glint and glimmer, as I sail up-stream, fishing rods a dangling, lines a dragging, bobs be bobbing.

I'm sad, that I'm no thaumaturge capable of miraculous feats, like deadlocking the planet and extracting from each landmark the very soul of art and being.

I'm sad that time is a merciless machine, eternally crushing the potential out of now and moments ago.

But that's life. I must master plucking the gems I see rolling my way, and dragging my hands in the sand for treasures and surprises.

Luck and opportunity fall in the hands of those who look up with their palms out.

Tick Tock
Little Fox

I will eventually express my own experiences as a System, and what it was like discovering the nature I'd hidden from myself, once I've finished uploading all of my old art.

Ritualistically, I cannot stand and speak for myself, without putting myself out there to stand atop of.

It's possible to be in pain so much, that expressing it, pains everyone around you, and then they dislike you for it.

Honestly I'd hoped to hold off on uploading my Communion Canvases until my Where Is My Mind comic had gotten along far enough for me to be satisfied. But I realized that there's a genuine spark of life I should be capturing when I share art shortly after its completion. To keep an audience connected with me more as I'm making the art, as much as I'd prefer to introduce certain ideas and concepts first...I just want to share the art I've already made/ am making.

The Communion Canvases are a meditative, artistic ritual I've started performing this year, similar to my Renewal of Gratitude ritual I perform every few years where I summon my gratitude for people in my life. Only the goal of this ritual is to become present and mindful of what is happening within the confines of my mind and capture them with art. This exercise is something I began this year to help me emotionally regulate, because the state of my mental health is something that concerns me greatly, and that I wish to share.

There's alot of things happening in my mind that I find fascinating and genuinely interesting and worth sharing. Weird spiritual experiences and acknowledgements about the nature of perception, conscience, and emotional regulation. And learning how to navigate my mind and find those things to practice expressing them is everything that my communion canvases will be about. But that is not to say that I also won't simply use them to draw fun cute stuff and indulge. Because at the end of the day, the exercise is there to help me emotionally regulate, and indulgence is an important and useful tool to use every now and then I think.

If you ever have any questions about them or my characters, or myself, I'd be happy to answer them.

Please enjoy the art.

Happy Father's Day.

Please cherish your fathers if they've been good to you. And to make a miserable late addendum to my last journal, please love your mothers if they've been good to you.

I'm not calling my father a devil, nor do I wish to vent about whatever lackings and gratuities he may've inflicted and passed unto me within my life. I simply wish to share the impact his absence left on my mind.

Alone, warped, and without a paternal spirit, surrogate or otherwise to turn to and trapped within a world I perceived as mercilessly hostile and innately treacherous...my mind was left to wander and cling onto whatever stable structures and rewarding behaviours that it was able to generate on its own in order to cope with the world. This was not a recipe for success, especially escaping into an online world perceived and treated as effervescent and meaningless.

Saying my father is Satan, for me is to say to the world: "I taught myself." The things I learned to help guide and steer my life towards positive outcomes and emotional highs were sinfully short-sighted and thrill-seeking. I was a child when I learned how to start teaching myself after all, and no meaningful guidance really ever swerved in to stop me until I'd become an overgrown, rotten old egg; still waiting to hatch from myself.

I madly spun around in this state of being, believing that my independent-errr, I mean, isolationist attitude was an end all be all for a time, and that other ways of looking at and approaching life were methods to be defeated, rather than engaged and explored. I developed an ego and pride around my way of approaching life, instead of understanding it as a simple step forward towards anywhere in life...I took that attitude as a destination to be and defend, and glorify. Childish. Went on for far too long.

To start changing my ways and truly re-evaluate myself it took being truly hurt, not by myself and not just by others either. It specifically took hurting myself by hurting others who I loved. ...Repeatedly...

Each time afterwards I always found something new I'd have to scrutinize about myself, my understanding of the world, of people, of what my actions do to others and myself. And each time I'd have to do it alone, with my own thoughts and my own madness. Nobody there to talk to about how things and people function as a vast network, about how to navigate its complexity. Or tell me I'd messed up.

I'm lucky to have encountered the friends in my life that I have, who were able to help and stand beside me as I pulled myself back together to ask for forgiveness. They weren't there to parent me in anyway, but they simply were there with loving spirits and stayed. Blessed be Baphomet, but my guide in life he is not. Satan is now simply that which follows my soul in eternal eclipse of it, casting a shadow unto nothing.

And I have my friends to thank for helping me grow the fuck up.

Cherish the people who help raise you high so you can catch that sunlight and grow like you were meant to.

Casual reminder that the tragic state of the soul is so tragic, that it need not needlessly carry the burden of failing familial bondings that do nothing but drain the soul and curse the spirit.

The sadness of having no family, no parents to look up towards, to talk to for guidance, to honour out of obligation and tradition, is far preferable to the blistering, twisted insanity of forcing oneself to love those whose blood demands love through genetic ties, instead of real spiritual ties that imbue each participant with love and health.

I have no parents to honour, even though they live. And as painful as that is, it's nowhere near as painful as pretending to love awful people, simply because most people in the world decided to engage in motherly mass hysteria on this day more than any other.

Don't love awful family members, if all they do is cause you pain and demand love as tribute for their gifts.

Thank you everyone for choosing to follow and watch me here.

I have something to say, to help paint my intentions clearly for this art from now and going forward.

I want to promise to you all that no matter what I draw and upload here, that I myself am okay. I'm not calling for help,. I just want to share some of the things that light up my soul, as well as those which cast shadows. It is my sincere hope that this art here brings joy, thoughts, weirdness, and perhaps even inspiration to others. But my goal for most of my art here is to express the things happening to, and inside of my mind.

And I will do so in the form of furry queer cartoons being weirdos with each other in a strange world of magic and technology. Because that's just what I love to do.

The Where is My Mind? series is somewhat separate from that setting though, and is simply the theatre of my mind being visually organized, with all kinds of my emotions and beliefs and thoughts taking center stage to ham it up like they're at camp.

Please enjoy the experiments. I'm letting all of my weirdness out.