Projects of Xexilia O. Shadows
Eternity Concepts: Having become an indie series when starting as a webcomic, one that’s a manga at that, was the best someone might expect of this project when I began in 1999. With a magnificent story in mind, any improvements in my art and writing made my OCD demand I destroy all the old pages and start from the beginning; The series seen now was being drawn in 2011 when my endometriosis–and several undiagnosed autoimmune diseases and neurological syndromes–was so bad I seriously felt like, and looked like, I was likely to die soon. So I was drawing what I could while I was able; While I was here. Normally I would have gone insane over showing those pages–but at the time, I didn’t see any other, or better, option than to do down swinging, and die with a pen in my hand.
Today I am finishing up the second volume and will resume updates after it’s release.
Eternity Concepts: The Novel: A different medium means a different story. . .but still the same story. How? You’ll find out when I begin releasing chapters.
Things It Turns Out You Can Say, but You’re Apparently not Supposed to : Comedic writing and essays.
Stand Up: Because of course I do. I’ve been trying to get together a decent half hour to an hour, but I have a feeling I’m only going to be able to preform at my usual spot. . .the goth (and) fetish club. Is it weird that I just learned they have a dress code and I have never been informed? Normally dress codes and I don’t go well together. Do I belong here or something?
I preformed for ten minuets a pop, on two separate occasions, about 15 years ago. For some weird reason, every goth in town I meet now recognizes me and asks if I go to the club and assumes that’s how but–I have only ever gone about five times in my life, and no one ever recognized me until 7 years after I last went, I came in an did open mic stand up. After my second performance I was informed I had to go last from then on, which evidently is a major honor in comedy.
They liked me. They liked me a lot, apparently.
. . .So I haven’t gone back since. There’s no better way to confuse me endlessly than to give me positive reinforcement.
That and I haven’t felt able to write humor, so I took a comedy class and evidently if you’re AFAB, doing stand up is super lame and sexist–female comedians are instructed to never discuss sex jokes or dress nicely–minimum make up, no skirts, plain jeans, t-shirt, jacket or hoodie. The major comedy clubs in the US all talk and have made these rules, and they warn that if you do break these rules, you just don’t get to preform. Why?
They’re convinced if you dress too nicely men can’t find you actually funny and women won’t because they hate you instantly when you walk out due to an innate sense of competition over the date she’s most statically likely to be there with.
