My Mother Was a Saint

2018-07-09 My Mother Was a Saint

Production notes:

Making progress. Thatch’s eyebrows are back. I was not happy with the way I had done them, so I fixed it. They’ll be easier to work with now. I’m ready to finish fledging Thatch, I think. As you can see, I have done some work on my disembodied head. This may take a while.


Chiefy: You know you can’t really get everybody to move to Africa, right?

Thatch: Don’t worry about it. You’ll be extinct before that ever happens.

Chiefy: Depressing.
So, have you ever gone back to visit Russia?

Thatch: Can’t. We have enemies there.

Chiefy: Wow.
Your mother did well to get you out of there.

Thatch: It was a difficult journey, but she was guided by the voices in her head. She had long conversations with them.

Chiefy: It’s good to have friends.

Thatch: Yes, even imaginary friends.

Chiefy: No doubt. That’s why I’m never truly alone.

Thatch: Yikes! What’s that?

Chiefy: It’s Chiefy! (rough draft)