Hubby took me out on an art date, which is really the most awesome kind. Here's what our art dates entail: two artists drinking a bumload of coffee, drawing and saying things like 'wouldn't it be great if we could make a living off of this or that amazing creative idea (or type of art project)?' and 'watch me draw this!' and 'did you see that sign with the heinous kerning? Yah, I'm SO sure.' Plus it's fun because we take silly pictures of the other one drinking coffee and we sometimes try not to snarf hot coffee out our noses from laughing.
Since the book I'm working on is a picture book, the story of a little character I've had in my head since our oldest was a little, a big aspect of my book is how it will look. The illustrations. Droolings, we sometimes call them. There I was, all proud of myself for having finished step 2 when ...
Hubby says, "Prototypes. 3 of them. Now."
Obviously the picture of him is a re-creation. But it's pretty true to the actual event so I feel good about including it here.
And so I did. 3 prototypes. BAM! I almost passed out after the first two. I had no scissors with me, people! Sharpies? Left at home! But he was 'adamant', what with his ordering me my favorite dinner (without olives) at my favorite restaurant and getting me coffee refills and everything.
Still pushing through, though. On to step 4. Yikes.
And still I can't find that little slip of paper.
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