ghredh.

with enough delicious dark chocolates in my foodbox,
and some full moon werewolfen craziness in my headbox,
suddenly,
i'm mildly motivated to cramp up my hands on the lightbox!
here's a sneak preview of sorts,
just the linework,
for half of my half of the hottness:
spirits and memories of the woodsly goodness
each one is 3.75" x 6.25", in pen.


caterpillery death's head mothman prophet.
with or without wings,
some folks are always in a state of becoming.
non-stop throughout youth, adulthood, & death.
larva, wings, & skullface.
being ugly and also being dope is it's own catch 22.
are you dope because you're ugly, or vice-versa?
if you were handsome, would you try as hard?


a dendroid isn't a robotic living room, ninjas!
it's a treelike entity.
think of a dryad, but without a set of sumptuous sweet boobs.
this specific sarsaparilla sippin' dendroid is a real nut!
literally.
and he's also a few different kinds of trees, judging by the leaves on his torso.
some dudes are just mad arborescent, ya'll.
he puts the root in root beer.
seriously.
what's his favorite band? the roots.
favorite author? alex haley....c'mon.
how's he gonna kick it? gonna kick it root down..... 


a bird with your hand is worth at least two in a bush.
wildlife stories are my favorite kind of one-upmanship in the woodsly goodness.
whatever you've seen,
some ol' timer has seen two, bigger, and closer than you ever will.
trust me, it goes;
"oh, yeah?
well i saw a goose as big as a moose, and it ate a baby in one gulp!!!!"
or somethin' like that.....
never fails.


home is where the hearth is.
here's a hibernian hibernal hearth-hearted homebody.
the homefires are brewin' in this bruin....
and for the record,
i'm takin' mushrooms back, kids.
awwwwww,
so sorry, sad psilocybin stoners,
but they're mine now,
so you can put that in your amanita,
and muscaria it;
as a consolation, you can keep the cowplops, suckas....


oak tree spirit salamander-man,
doin' the gallop!
you know,
slappin' his own ass with a switch,
and rumpty dumpty butt-shakin'
until that acorn is charged up with dramatic, static, lightnin' strikin' electricity....
another 'nother hand, too?
yeah.
so?

ghredh.
that's what's up.
is the indo-european philological root for a whole fat bunch of awesomeness;
it is defined thusly:
To walk, go. Suffixed zero-grade form *ghdh-yo-. a. gressorial; aggress, congress, degression, digress, egress, ingredient, ingress, introgression, pinnigrade, plantigrade, progress, regress, retrograde, retrogress, tardigrade, transgress, from Latin grad (past participle gressus), to walk, go; b. grade, gradual, graduate, gree; centigrade, degrade, degree, from Latin gradus (< deverbative *grad-u-), step, stage, degree, rank. (Pokorny ghredh- 456.) 
ghredh, ya'll.
pronounced with a loogie-throated noise at the front,
and a lispy breathless thszs at the ass-end.....
the ghredh is non-negotiable, my ninjas,
the paths we pick on our choose-your-own-adventure poetic paean processional 
only ever modify the modes and methods of the composition.
re-read the definition if you don't get it yet.
all walks of life, mutha-uckas.....
but for real, though.
never quiet, never soft...