Car Stolen at EFNW

Hello everyone, I’m sorry that I don’t have any new art to share with you all. Unfortunately my tablet inside my car, along with most of my worldly possessions were stolen Sunday night at EFNW. The hotel, the con staff, and the police have been very kind in helping with this situation.

I am asking that if any pony con goers or anyone else who may have seen anything suspicious between the hours of 6PM Sunday and 8AM Monday at the doubletree hotel by the seatac that they contact the seattle police immediately at (206) 625-5011. The car was parked on the north side of building 3. It is a dark grey 96 Honda civic, 2 door, with a Wyoming license plate. The passenger side mirror is tan.

Thank you for any kind thoughts, reblogs, retweets: https://twitter.com/viwrastupr/status/864546103647027202 or information you may have.

I know that my friends are wanting to put together a gofundme, but at the moment I’m still holding out hope that something may be found. The car is fully insured but as I am moving and between homes for renter’s insurance, my possessions were not. Not that they were worth much, as most of what has been lost is largely sentimental in value.

When you fit everything you own into a single car, you realize what objects have value to you, and those are not the expensive or the flashy things, but what is most associated with your memories:

The clock which sat on my grandfather’s mantle.

The table he made himself before he passed.

The key to a long torn down shed at my childhood home.

A small green rock I found in a riverbed as a kid.

A note and signature from a voice actor who perked up my spirits on a bad day.

Birthday cards from my grandmother, father, mother, and aunt.

A letter opener purchased on a school trip.

A heavy sheepskin coat which, unpractical as it would be to ever use, smelled like home.

Not the merchandise I sell, the prints, scrolls, and cups, not the money, not the art books, tablet, or clothes. Not even the car. I don’t want any of that. I would like my memories back. In time, without those little nothings, I am afraid of forgetting how I became who I am today. Forgetting my family. My friends. My experiences.

Please, if you know anything, please, speak up.

Friend going through a hard time, and him some love

Reblog this if you’ve got an art blog that has no political drama with it. I want to follow art but the political tensions everywhere are draining me.

Reborbing

I have my (strong) feelings about politics, but I feel that my art blog is not the place for them, so feel free to call me out if I start to get political on here.