Today I found a small tub of pink Play-Doh. I used it to make a small pony and put it on my desk at work. It was worth a few laughs from my boss and coworkers until…
One coworker mentioned Bronies and then explained, briefly, the fandom to my boss. After hearing the fruits of that conversation, I am very glad that no one here knows that I’m a Brony.
I often wish I could be more open about this sort of thing in my life. I suppose that I should be thankful that my friends and family are ac
Brewing up Rhymes
From time to time, I’m given to ponder,
An alchemist zebra who’s given to wander,
The Everfree forest, despite all the danger.
Gathering herbs with which she’s no stranger.
From potion to poison each she has mastered,
Brewing her cures to solve each disaster.
With leaf and seed, with stem and root,
She crafts oils, elixirs and salves to boot.
Long have I wondered in my meditations,
Why Zecora would converse - without provocation -
With measured meter an
Preface
Words, it seems, are a poor medium for expressing the roots of suffering. The tears I've shed tonight map my journey with far greater clarity then I will ever dictate. Yet, I want... I need...
Precis of Pain
I am a troubled man.
(( Strike now, that shadowed cast, that fretful simulacrum; ))
The events of my life have conspired to... no. No ascribing blame. I did this to myself. That only makes it worse, really. I have evolved into a mass of contradictions; slowly beco
The Show Stoppers
In brief, the Show Stoppers is a slice-of-life story featuring the Cutie Mark Crusaders: Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. The show opens w/ Applejack gifting the CMCs with a club house located in a secluded corner of Sweet Apple Acres. After some irony building and foreshadowing, the CMCs embark on many and varied activities, from the ordinary to the absurd, in an attempt to earn their cutie marks. This continues until the school teacher, Cheerilee, informs the CMC
Wind to stone and fire to dust and each pattern uncoupled.
And what, by unfettered certainty, is gained from this hectic jumble?
The tyrant's bliss: in the cast of his gaze, all is rendered anew.
Torn not by abatement's pleas he unmakes all that is true.
Earth seized by misshapen claws dismantled and broken.
Cry now 'til tears are spent for Chaos has spoken.
Out, hie thee hence, from the master all must flee.
Discord reigns forever in manic chortling hilarity.
Preface:
As I think through how to begin on this topic, I am repeatedly struck by the thought: "well, duh!" (In Pinkie Pie's voice, as a matter of fact.) I find it so strange that lessons I've learned as a child are becoming relevant again at this stage of my life. The simplest of teachings has come back to me and, to my surprise and eventual chagrin, become my salvation.
Self Loathing:
In my continuing quest to grow beyond my faults - to become the pony I think I should be, the pony I nee
A while back, when I joined the forums, someone Brohoof’d a post I made. I was in a punchy mood and thought, “why can’t I Brohoof their Brohoof?”
Well, that Idea festered and eventually became this comic. Not sure how funny anyone will find it, but it forced me to work through some new (for me) ideas in drawing; so it was worth it for that, if nothing else.
Enjoy.
Lately I've been experiencing an odd phenomenon: drawing is more fun then I expect.
To explain, let me set the stage.
First of all, I have a brain full of Equestria. I listen to PMVs and Brony songs all day long. I hop on the Pony side of the internet almost as soon as I get home. I very much want to contribute something cool to the veritable forest of awesome Brony arts'n'stuff out there. The desire to create is there.
On the other hoof, my job is mentally exhausting. I'm a programm
Preface:
I have not fully come to terms with the nature or scope of the change that has gripped me. I do know that it coincided with becoming a Brony and that it has grown since I became openly Brony with my friends and family. I cannot tell if the change was triggered by the act of becoming a Brony or if it simply allowed me to be more receptive to the idea of Bronyhood.
In any case...
Cynicism:
I am weary unto death of cynicism masquerading as enlightenment. I find no value in castin
Since I became a Brony, I've fiddled with the notion of telling my friends and family. I always assumed that I'd be met with scorn and mockery. But, I don't like to hide things. I enjoy being open and comfortable with my friends and family. So the idea persisted...
Then I began drawing, and I began to ponder the strange fact that I wouldn't be able to share my best work (that is, ponies ) with my friends and family. I thought, at first, that I could draw two sets of art: one of the ponies
