I started the day by fixing my GF's bicycle gear hub and couldn't help but laugh when I remembered the etymology for dérailleur. Couldn't help but imagine this little impish creature sticking an iron rod between the spokes resulting in a "Trio of Belleville"'esque crash. Not that I'm bearing any ill will or whatnot. Only the juxtaposition of something which in theory makes cycling uphill easier with the fact that it's name derives from something causing a crash. Fantastic.
Then I got to some long overdue work on an illustration I promised Wiśnia for an article on sign language. Hopefully 4 more will follow. I managed however, for the first time, to draw something in exact accord with given parameters. Though it took me 6 hours there's hope for me yet. Or so I hope.
The wind on this one street today was perfect. Just the right temperature and velocity. I wanted to ride through that place over and over. Not so far blowing in my direction, but rather gliding around the body leaving something which I can only synaesthetically describe as a sort of aftertaste. The tactile sensation more that of water than air.
Then I got to some long overdue work on an illustration I promised Wiśnia for an article on sign language. Hopefully 4 more will follow. I managed however, for the first time, to draw something in exact accord with given parameters. Though it took me 6 hours there's hope for me yet. Or so I hope.
The wind on this one street today was perfect. Just the right temperature and velocity. I wanted to ride through that place over and over. Not so far blowing in my direction, but rather gliding around the body leaving something which I can only synaesthetically describe as a sort of aftertaste. The tactile sensation more that of water than air.
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