Author: Autumn

I write 'n stuff.
About Me

Embracing Change: My Journey After Divorce

Autumn

It’s been a very bad year.

I’m still pretty scared to talk about specifics, so suffice to say that I had a plethora of brand new experiences, met a variety of people, and stepped well outside of my comfort zone in ways that I never would have imagined.

Oh, and I’m also now divorced.

Turns out that you can spend years working your butt off to love and care for your soulmate, only to have it turn out that you’re the wrong “context” for them and they don’t want to be with you anymore. Oh, and they also loathe the way you state the obvious. And the way you associate concepts together. And, and, and …

Maybe one day my heart will stop hemorrhaging.

You know all those statistics that claim that women fare better emotionally after divorces? Not true in my case. Aside from the soul-crushing devastation, there’s the intense feelings of betrayal and rejection, as well as feeling like a defective failure at life. Did this happen because I’m too fat? I dunno. Better stop eating just in case.

Only I know I’m not fat. It’s the stress and pain triggering body dysmorphia — my subconscious attempt to take control of something that’s completely out of my control. Even if I weighed only 90lbs and had the flattest abs in the world, I’d still be discarded. I’m still “that” woman.

So I’ve spent hours and hours crying until I was too dehydrated and exhausted to keep crying. I’ve had numerous meltdowns, and moments when it felt like I didn’t have the strength to keep living. Life doesn’t come with a pause button that lets you get your feet back underneath you, it just keeps plowing ahead no matter what’s going on, and getting dragged along leaves you feeling even more banged up.

Then one day I woke up and I felt like eating again. So it is true that time does eventually heal some wounds.

Though I am now dirt-eating poor.

I looked into getting a job or attending an online community college, but those options didn’t feel remotely right for me. You know how it is when everything you built up over the years gets abruptly yanked out from underneath you, you feel trapped in an aimless free fall where absolutely nothing could possibly get worse than it already is, and you say to yourself, “Well, I did always want to earn a living as a writer.”

That’s what I’m going to do.

I’m going to earn a living as a writer. It’s not just about getting by, but finding a new purpose in life — a reason for everything, and a means to express the hurt.

When I feel sad, I can research and implement marketing tactics to keep myself distracted (especially now that I know that I can survive far outside of my comfort zone). I can write about how much I hate men in my novels (facetious exaggeration, don’t take that seriously). I can start churning out as much fiction as I can possibly write, and I will build a new life for myself that can’t be unraveled so easily. And I will do it all while still cooking delicious dinners and homeschooling my children, because I can be that awesome no matter how hard it is. Sleep is overrated anyway.

I’ve spent the last few months telling myself over and over, “If you want things to be different, then you have to do something different.”

And I’m starting to feel ready to do something different.

art

AI art – Billowing Clouds

Autumn

We downloaded Stable Diffusion 3 this month.

The thing that I find pretty wild about AI art is how different all of the models are, and every time a new one is released I feel like I have to learn it from the ground up. Then, naturally, trying to go back to an older model feels all awkward and confusing, lol.

I’ve found that with SD3, turning both the number of steps and cfg way down produced better results. Also, figuring out a good scheduler took quite a bit of experimenting. But, on the whole, I think that the textures it produces are quite attractive, and I do plan on using it more in the future.

art

Phone Wallpapers

Autumn

This is one of those moments where I wonder if I’m supposed to be more tight-fisted and controlling of the content that I produce, but meh.

I’m learning how to use Canva, and it’s been good practice to use my AI pictures to create wallpapers for phones. Shown above. Feel free to download for personal use. Maybe remember my name if you’re feeling generous. As far as I’m concerned, these are educational/experimental images, not something that I intend for hella profit(!). Though … if you try to use them for your own hella profit(!), I will come after you. Just sayin’. Hur hur.

All in good fun, of course. Everyone knows that no one reads blogs anymore (except for you and me). 😂

About Me

Spring Update

Autumn

April ended up turning my life completely upside down. I keep asking myself, “Do I want to talk about it publicly?” and the answer is no. Not really. Maybe in the future, but not right now.

So, I’ve been keeping myself busy with deep cleaning my house. I also have plenty of responsibilities to get through and appointments to keep. Those cupboard doors aren’t going to scrub themselves!

However, I do feel that I have been absent for long enough, especially with how bad I’ve been at blogging for the last … two years. It’s time for me to get back to the things that I enjoy, even if I don’t feel like I have all that much to say yet.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have plenty of AI art to share! As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Or maybe pictures are just soothing to look at.

Runemaster

Runemaster 3.1

Autumn

Malachi was all that anyone ever talked about. Lyra spent the next couple of days listening as women buzzed about him, excitedly conversing about how the Runemaster was helping to heal the sick, cure bad habits, and comfort the broken hearted. Lyra still hadn’t seen him since he had asked her to repair the hem of his cloak, and the smallest part of her was starting to feel left out.

She was among the broken hearted, wasn’t she? Why didn’t he care enough to provide his services to her?

Lyra knew that he had tried, and she had chased him away. Otherwise, perhaps she would be contributing her two cents about Malachi, instead of silently listening to everyone else talk about him. Why had she done that?

He must have taken it personally, she thought to herself. She had been rude and dismissive with him every time they had crossed paths, and after she had gone out of her way to drop off the cloak at the boarding house rather than wait for him to pick it up himself, he had good reason to think that she was avoiding him. Rather, because she had been avoiding him.

Lyra was beginning to regret it.

What was it about Malachi that everyone liked? It hurt to be left out – at least, that was what she told herself. She imagined that he was constantly surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans, all laughing and hugging him as they thanked him for his latest spell, and her chest grew tighter. What would have happened if she had let him stay when he had asked? What if she had listened to his reassuring voice and let him cast his runes for her sake instead of acting so defensive … then she could have found out what it was that everyone was so enamored with, instead of being left to guess.

But despite her growing curiosity, she was also extremely anxious about running into him again, certain that she had given him good reason to dislike her.

Another evening came around, and Lyra found herself working late in the dressmaker shop, sewing lace onto a pretty blue dress by the light of a lamp. She hated walking home in the dark, but with the garment due to be picked up early the next day, she didn’t have the luxury of waiting until the morrow. The stars were out by the time she stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She walked down the empty street and looked up at the pale moon, then despite feeling silly over it, she couldn’t help but wonder if Malachi was looking up at that moment as well.

Lyra halted when she thought that she had seen a flicker of movement beyond the line of trees, but after staring for a moment, she decided that it was simply a trick of her eyes. But her nerves were now shot. Her mind had begun to race with fears, and she was helpless to make it stop. She picked up the pace, determined to make it home as quickly as possible, wishing that her house wasn’t so close to the forest. There was no one around to judge her for hurrying.

Unexpectedly, there was a small cough, and her head snapped around to find Malachi crouched a few feet away just off the side of the road, almost completely hidden in the darkness. He made no move to approach her, but merely sat quietly and calmly, as if in a deep reverie.

“The stars are rather lovely tonight,” he said softly.

She swallowed hard. “W-What are you doing here?” she demanded, trying to hide her fear. The last thing she wanted was for Malachi to know how much she was trembling, so she took a step back, hoping that the darkness would shield her from his gaze.

He tilted his head, but Lyra couldn’t see his expression as he replied, “Perhaps I am here to show you a star that you haven’t yet seen.”

She took another step back, wishing to get home and lock herself inside.

Why was she always fleeing from him?

“I’ve seen all the stars,” Lyra replied, her voice quivering. “I’m sorry Master, but I’m on my way home. I just … was surprised by you, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” Malachi’s tone was almost teasing, and Lyra’s eyes widened in surprise. Had he been playing with her? Her hands were sweating and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“Yes …” she hesitated, then asked timidly, “Do you like the trim on your cloak?” She felt about ready to faint now, wondering why she had spoken the question out loud when she was so terrified of a negative response – when she was already so close to the edge of what she could handle. She felt compelled to cover up her nervousness, and began babbling, “I put in a lot of extra care when I sewed it on. I hope that my stitching is adequate … and that you feel that you got your money’s worth.”

She watched as the stranger tilted his head again, the pale moonlight illuminating his features in an otherworldly light. He said nothing as he looked at her, then finally asked, “May I read your fortune, Miss Lyra?”

Lyra wanted to say “no” and be done with him, but instead she found herself stepping forward and nodding. She had spent a couple of days listening to everyone else gush about how wonderful Master Malachi was, and she thought that if she rejected him once again, she would be permanently left out. She wanted to see the Runemaster’s work for herself.

About Me

Runemaster 2.2

Autumn

Lyra found herself looking eagerly for Master Malachi every time the chime to the door rang, but as the afternoon dragged on, the Runemaster never appeared. There was the usual flurry of women full of the usual flurry of gossip, and Lyra felt like she spent half the day on the floor carefully ensuring that all the skirt hems were pinned to the correct length, doing her best to focus on her job and dismiss the cloak from her mind.

She was proud of her work. She had made sure that her stitches were strong and subtle, and a wave of joy had cascaded through her when she had spread out the cloak after she had finished. The trim accented the velveteen fabric beautifully, and it looked like a garment fit for a king. However, she had also been quick to dismiss the thought as hubris, since someone of her status had no business serving the royal court, and she couldn’t let herself get too egotistical.

The hours dragged by, and Malachi never appeared to see what she had done – the disappointment was almost unbearable. As Lyra worked on closing up the dressmaker’s shop, an idea came to her and she pulled out a sheet of brown paper, then carefully folded up the cloak with tissue paper and wrapped it up in a parcel, which she tied shut with twine. She would drop it off at the Taylors where Malachi was lodging, she told herself, so she could mark it as delivered and get the weight of it off of her mind.

After locking the door, Lyra set off, trying very hard not to think. She was torn between wanting to imagine Malachi’s reaction when he opened the paper and examined her sewing, and feeling utterly terrified that he would hate it. Ultimately she resolved that she would leave the package with Mrs. Taylor and avoid Malachi altogether.

It wasn’t a far walk, but as she dragged through each step, she was anxious that she would accidentally bump into the rune master, either coming or going from his lodgings, but he was nowhere in sight. She reached the Taylors and knocked on the door.

“Hello, good evening,” Lyra said pleasantly when Mrs. Taylor opened the door, smiling but doing her best to not come across as eager. “I have a delivery for Master Malachi.”

“He’s not in right now,” Mrs Taylor replied, wiping her hands on her apron. Lyra could smell onion on the older woman, and she wondered what it was that she was preparing for dinner. Would Malachi be eating it, or had he made arrangements to dine elsewhere? A little awkwardly, she held out the parcel and chirped with excessive cheer,

“It’s from Mrs. Elwood. Could you give it to him?”

“Yes, I’ll put it in his room for him. Have a good evening.” Mrs. Taylor took the package out of Lyra’s hands, then disappeared inside as Lyra echoed “good evening.” Relieved, she began walking home, though her feet were even heavier than before.

That had gone exactly as she had wanted it to. The cloak was returned to its owner, and Master Malachi was not around to make her feel embarrassed or self conscious … so why did she feel so disappointed?