and the wanting comes in waves

Oh dear. I have officially listened to Hazards of Love enough that I want to do fannish things with it. (My perennial problem with the Decemberists: I listen to their music enough and I end up doing things like writing story for myla goldberg, Miranda, and on one memorable occasion the outline for a novel developed over a month's worth of driving to school whilst listening to the same four albums on repeat. [Warning: all these links are to things from 2005/2006, which means I am mildly shamed of them now.]) This time, to my vague horror, the fannish thing I want to do is not to write anything but rather to draw an elaborate scene for each song. My artistic abilities have not become markedly better in the last ... six years, though, so I have no idea from whence the urge comes.

Note to self: prioritize the novel-length WIPs over the amateur illustrations. Oh, and prioritize looking at grad schools over the novel-length WIPs. Love, your underdeveloped sense of realistic responsibility.