The artist in thee
- Thread starter Labyrinth
- Start date
Anyone who wants to follow my works in progress on tablet can do so here [http://maycontaindragons.blogspot.com/]. I'm pretty much done on the Escapist (for reasons of productivity and real/virtual life more than anything) so you can check my stuff out there.
Your lines and shadow work are beautiful. The drawing of your girlfriend is brilliant save a slightly elongated torso and a dodgy looking right cuff on the hoodie. Very expressive though, I like it.Archemetis said:Escapees, I present to you...
The Croco-Cake!
Well, thank you, it's genuinely nice for people to take that much notice in what I doDecoy Doctorpus said:Your lines and shadow work are beautiful. The drawing of your girlfriend is brilliant save a slightly elongated torso and a dodgy looking right cuff on the hoodie. Very expressive though, I like it.Archemetis said:Escapees, I present to you...
The Croco-Cake!
(really, I mean that, it's deeply appreciated.) And I see what you mean abuot the sketch of my ex... Girlfriend (She's convinced herself she's in love with some other twat-face, but that's not for here.)
Anyway, thanks again!
Apologies for the double post, but it's unavoidable, because editing my last post doesn't move the topic to the front page.
Anyway, got a new one to share.
It's a variation of my latest Deviantart ID:
Anyway, got a new one to share.
It's a variation of my latest Deviantart ID:
It's been a while since I've posted in this thread, so I'll show you guys a quick spot of selective coloring I did a while ago:
~Van
~Van
You do spraypaint work yourself or was it just the colouring you did? Either way, its awesome. I myself do my bit of graffiti. No tags, or letters or anything like that, its purely pictures of animals and plants.Vanguard1219 said:It's been a while since I've posted in this thread, so I'll show you guys a quick spot of selective coloring I did a while ago:
~Van
Actually, I just took the picture and colored it. It was a bit of grafitti I found in Westport, Kansas City. If it gives you some perspective, this was the original pictures before I messed with it:Fightgarr said:You do spraypaint work yourself or was it just the colouring you did? Either way, its awesome. I myself do my bit of graffiti. No tags, or letters or anything like that, its purely pictures of animals and plants.Vanguard1219 said:It's been a while since I've posted in this thread, so I'll show you guys a quick spot of selective coloring I did a while ago:
~Van
I've seen a few people put some comics up here and there and seenig as Comics is my main focus in the art I produce I thought I'd put up just some quick screw-about pages I make on the side about my pet Parrot who is a collossal douche in real life as well, but bless him as much as my family can't stand him, he's proven to be a good source for comedy.
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Ahh the wonder of profanity. Makes me giggle.Archemetis said:I've seen a few people put some comics up here and there and seenig as Comics is my main focus in the art I produce I thought I'd put up just some quick screw-about pages I make on the side about my pet Parrot who is a collossal douche in real life as well, but bless him as much as my family can't stand him, he's proven to be a good source for comedy.
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It loses it's punch slightly for people who have never seen or been around my pet Parrot... I swear if he could talk fluently, he'd be saying stuff like that.Labyrinth said:Ahh the wonder of profanity. Makes me giggle.Archemetis said:I've seen a few people put some comics up here and there and seenig as Comics is my main focus in the art I produce I thought I'd put up just some quick screw-about pages I make on the side about my pet Parrot who is a collossal douche in real life as well, but bless him as much as my family can't stand him, he's proven to be a good source for comedy.
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Then again at times i consider him a diabloical genius, the kind you normally see in old silent films where the villain seems to have a fanscination with railroads and sweet damsels.
and his nefarious get-up and mustache are just halmarks to show how proud he is of his evil.
My English class this quarter has me writing some short work for assignments. They're general non-fiction, which is pretty much blogging in a narrative style. Since I lead such an interesting life, I figured I'd share it with you folks.
Listening intently to a cell phone isn't particularly a pleasant pass-time, much less while the hum of tires on asphalt propels my car down the interstate. There's only a handful of reasons I would ever talk on the phone while driving, but "I need directions" is a good enough excuse for me to risk it. Shreveport's a lot bigger than I remembered it, in the sense that the drivers are a lot more aggressive than they need to be.
Which was even less pleasant when I couldn't hear through my phone. "Take exit what?"
Static punctuated every response, "Seven. Teen. B!"
"Okay, where next?"
"Exit 9!"
Cars around me muscled into my lane as I slowed to reach the exit. Behind me, a truck flashed its lights at me. After I managed to take the exit ramp, and glide along the curve more smoothly than my aggressive pick-up friend. I gained some space on him, merging into traffic with nothing less than an impatient jolt of the steering wheel. The exit wasn't far ahead. I took to the ramp and merged into what must've been another highway. After discerning the final bit of directions, I hung up the phone and committed both hands to the wheel. The car responded by being less jarring as I turned. In the city, cars became even more numerous, and a lot less forgiving for not knowing the lay of the land.
More lanes, more lights, less opportunities, and overall bad circumstances made the trip what could've been a pleasant into a bit of a unsynchronized ballet of cars, trucks, and SUVs. The irony was I was going to a car dealership. I pulled my car into a side street, merging over one lane in it's entirety and making an uncomfortably sudden turn into a street. The dealership was big, and I couldn't help but notice that the service doors were very conveniently placed. The mechanic at the desk wore overalls, a baseball cap, and was only one grease-stain short of being a stereotype. "Can I help ya, sir?"
"Um..." Oh yeah, way suave, "I had an appointment for 12:30."
"Sure thing, what's your name?"
I stepped out of my car, and began walking with him toward the computer occupying the same space as a greasy wrench. The entire room was polished, and notably clean for a car repair shop. My best guess is it was the reception lobby for vehicles. "Hidalgo."
"Can you spell that for me?"
"Sure. H-I-D, A-L, G-O."
"Alright, we got'cha in there."
My keys were already out. I asked as I passed them over to him, "About what time do you expect to be done?"
"Uh..." Ah, so the suaveness is contagious. "Should be about 2:45."
I thanked him, and turned to head toward the dealership. Something wasn't clicking, I turned back around, "Where's the lobby?"
"Right there." He said, pointing with a pen, which was a fruitless gesture considering that I was facing the wrong way. I turned to look just in time to see the pen lowering. "Thank you." I walked toward where I guessed the lobby was.
Inside, I was immediately greeted by a beautifully shined, and pitch black 2009 Honda Civic Si. My first thought was that it was a very pretty car. My second, is that I'm such a car-geek sometimes. Walking down the lobby, my watch read 12:35 PM. "Noon thirty-five." I muttered the time to myself, and occupied myself by looking at the cars and looking up the prices of optional accessories for my own Civic. Though no longer brand new (being an '07 model), it was still a nice car. The dealership itself was a collage of awards, advertisements, and really really well-polished tile.
The marble stone shone, despite the business having been open and walked on for several hours at that point. The people inside all looked either too-happy (which car salesmen are oft to look), or just too tired. I had to wonder why, considering car shopping is something of a guilty pleasure of mine. I continued to browse, contemplating asking a salesman if I could go for a test drive. I'd feel validated, considering they hadn't given me a rental car while taking my own. Despite my own upbeat mood at having some factory defect on my car repaired for free, the lobby's general gloom was bringing me down. The only reasonable option was to go outside and look at cars I could never afford again.
The first stingingly cold gust of wind burned my nose. Pulling my jacket closer to my body, I looked in the windows of the cars somewhat enviously. It could have been my own natural displeasure at not having bought my car with a navigation system originally. I read the stickers on cars impartially, though I scoffed at the mileage of the SUVs. The '07 Civic averaged 30 City, 40 Highway, and even the '09 Civics had lost some mileage capabilities in the intervening years. The gray gloom of Louisiana overcast kept me company as I strolled the cars and read product specifications. The end result of the trip meant a combined two hour and forty minutes on the road, a repair on my car that shouldn't have been necessary, and a moment for me to look at cars.
My only observation from the mechanics was that my seat, mirrors, and radio equalizers were all changed. "Ah well," I told the dashboard as I got back on the road, headed for I-49. "Maybe mechanics like their bass higher than their treble."
Which was even less pleasant when I couldn't hear through my phone. "Take exit what?"
Static punctuated every response, "Seven. Teen. B!"
"Okay, where next?"
"Exit 9!"
Cars around me muscled into my lane as I slowed to reach the exit. Behind me, a truck flashed its lights at me. After I managed to take the exit ramp, and glide along the curve more smoothly than my aggressive pick-up friend. I gained some space on him, merging into traffic with nothing less than an impatient jolt of the steering wheel. The exit wasn't far ahead. I took to the ramp and merged into what must've been another highway. After discerning the final bit of directions, I hung up the phone and committed both hands to the wheel. The car responded by being less jarring as I turned. In the city, cars became even more numerous, and a lot less forgiving for not knowing the lay of the land.
More lanes, more lights, less opportunities, and overall bad circumstances made the trip what could've been a pleasant into a bit of a unsynchronized ballet of cars, trucks, and SUVs. The irony was I was going to a car dealership. I pulled my car into a side street, merging over one lane in it's entirety and making an uncomfortably sudden turn into a street. The dealership was big, and I couldn't help but notice that the service doors were very conveniently placed. The mechanic at the desk wore overalls, a baseball cap, and was only one grease-stain short of being a stereotype. "Can I help ya, sir?"
"Um..." Oh yeah, way suave, "I had an appointment for 12:30."
"Sure thing, what's your name?"
I stepped out of my car, and began walking with him toward the computer occupying the same space as a greasy wrench. The entire room was polished, and notably clean for a car repair shop. My best guess is it was the reception lobby for vehicles. "Hidalgo."
"Can you spell that for me?"
"Sure. H-I-D, A-L, G-O."
"Alright, we got'cha in there."
My keys were already out. I asked as I passed them over to him, "About what time do you expect to be done?"
"Uh..." Ah, so the suaveness is contagious. "Should be about 2:45."
I thanked him, and turned to head toward the dealership. Something wasn't clicking, I turned back around, "Where's the lobby?"
"Right there." He said, pointing with a pen, which was a fruitless gesture considering that I was facing the wrong way. I turned to look just in time to see the pen lowering. "Thank you." I walked toward where I guessed the lobby was.
Inside, I was immediately greeted by a beautifully shined, and pitch black 2009 Honda Civic Si. My first thought was that it was a very pretty car. My second, is that I'm such a car-geek sometimes. Walking down the lobby, my watch read 12:35 PM. "Noon thirty-five." I muttered the time to myself, and occupied myself by looking at the cars and looking up the prices of optional accessories for my own Civic. Though no longer brand new (being an '07 model), it was still a nice car. The dealership itself was a collage of awards, advertisements, and really really well-polished tile.
The marble stone shone, despite the business having been open and walked on for several hours at that point. The people inside all looked either too-happy (which car salesmen are oft to look), or just too tired. I had to wonder why, considering car shopping is something of a guilty pleasure of mine. I continued to browse, contemplating asking a salesman if I could go for a test drive. I'd feel validated, considering they hadn't given me a rental car while taking my own. Despite my own upbeat mood at having some factory defect on my car repaired for free, the lobby's general gloom was bringing me down. The only reasonable option was to go outside and look at cars I could never afford again.
The first stingingly cold gust of wind burned my nose. Pulling my jacket closer to my body, I looked in the windows of the cars somewhat enviously. It could have been my own natural displeasure at not having bought my car with a navigation system originally. I read the stickers on cars impartially, though I scoffed at the mileage of the SUVs. The '07 Civic averaged 30 City, 40 Highway, and even the '09 Civics had lost some mileage capabilities in the intervening years. The gray gloom of Louisiana overcast kept me company as I strolled the cars and read product specifications. The end result of the trip meant a combined two hour and forty minutes on the road, a repair on my car that shouldn't have been necessary, and a moment for me to look at cars.
My only observation from the mechanics was that my seat, mirrors, and radio equalizers were all changed. "Ah well," I told the dashboard as I got back on the road, headed for I-49. "Maybe mechanics like their bass higher than their treble."
A few poems wrote not a long time ago
Midsummer Night
When the sun dies in scarlet fire
The humid air so stifling
A cooling breeze that shifts the willows
Comfort in a sea of warmth
Stars shift and shimmer through the haze
Crickets start up their nocturnal chirping
Frogs serenade the moonbeams
The moon it smiles its radiant face upon the world
Glowing, dancing, graceful moonlight dapples upon the grass
Cloying, tantalizing music of the night plays its melody around me
The warm air wraps me and caresses me
I revel in the gentle romance of the night
Storm clouds hiss and growl on the horizon
Their flickering lights playing games in the clouds
White scars burn intensely but never come closer than the horizon
Booms and whistles of distant thunder add percussion to the song of the night
At long last the Owls wake who there sleep
Calling "whooooo" into the deep dark
Silent wings swoop and prowl the night air
Searching for their succulent prey
As the dawn light burst and boils over the horizon
The orchestra of the night dies to a whisper
Then is heard no more
Until night falls once again
And the song starts anew
Orchestra of the Evening
Sun bursting red and gold
Sinking 'neath horizon line
Darkness falls in gossamer sheets
Lines the forest in its shadowy folds
Sighing, Whistling, Singing, Groaning
Tress talk to one another
Voices creaking across the night
Rustle in their sleepy boughs
Rising, Falling, Whipping, Lashing
Winds blow up and winds blow down
Shaking branches, make them shiver
Bring down enfolding warmth upon the trees
Silence pervades as the night stands breathless
Suddenly erupting into action
Bats and beats open their night eyes
To hunt and forage in the clinging black
Peepers singing lullabies
Crickets chirping little songs
Owls fly on silent wings
Scouring the night for prey to catch
Fireflies winking their little lights
Dancing through the moonbeams
Flickering ghost lights
As dawn's silver light creeps over the horizon
Mist of the evening vanishes in fright
Night beasts scatter
Trees stretch their arms wide
Embracing the new day
And bidding farewell to the Orchestra of the Night
Walking the Line
Step out your door, my friend
A darkness will hound you without end
It hunts you when you are abed
It's jaws they wait to sup upon your head
In rainy shadows it stalks your soul
To hollow you, to devour you whole
We all here walk the line
The borders of shadow and light will unwind
We will wander, my friend, in the gray
Until the beckoning of ash and dust they come to claim
Our hearts and souls they act as one
To crush the dark, and bring the sun
Midsummer Night
When the sun dies in scarlet fire
The humid air so stifling
A cooling breeze that shifts the willows
Comfort in a sea of warmth
Stars shift and shimmer through the haze
Crickets start up their nocturnal chirping
Frogs serenade the moonbeams
The moon it smiles its radiant face upon the world
Glowing, dancing, graceful moonlight dapples upon the grass
Cloying, tantalizing music of the night plays its melody around me
The warm air wraps me and caresses me
I revel in the gentle romance of the night
Storm clouds hiss and growl on the horizon
Their flickering lights playing games in the clouds
White scars burn intensely but never come closer than the horizon
Booms and whistles of distant thunder add percussion to the song of the night
At long last the Owls wake who there sleep
Calling "whooooo" into the deep dark
Silent wings swoop and prowl the night air
Searching for their succulent prey
As the dawn light burst and boils over the horizon
The orchestra of the night dies to a whisper
Then is heard no more
Until night falls once again
And the song starts anew
Orchestra of the Evening
Sun bursting red and gold
Sinking 'neath horizon line
Darkness falls in gossamer sheets
Lines the forest in its shadowy folds
Sighing, Whistling, Singing, Groaning
Tress talk to one another
Voices creaking across the night
Rustle in their sleepy boughs
Rising, Falling, Whipping, Lashing
Winds blow up and winds blow down
Shaking branches, make them shiver
Bring down enfolding warmth upon the trees
Silence pervades as the night stands breathless
Suddenly erupting into action
Bats and beats open their night eyes
To hunt and forage in the clinging black
Peepers singing lullabies
Crickets chirping little songs
Owls fly on silent wings
Scouring the night for prey to catch
Fireflies winking their little lights
Dancing through the moonbeams
Flickering ghost lights
As dawn's silver light creeps over the horizon
Mist of the evening vanishes in fright
Night beasts scatter
Trees stretch their arms wide
Embracing the new day
And bidding farewell to the Orchestra of the Night
Walking the Line
Step out your door, my friend
A darkness will hound you without end
It hunts you when you are abed
It's jaws they wait to sup upon your head
In rainy shadows it stalks your soul
To hollow you, to devour you whole
We all here walk the line
The borders of shadow and light will unwind
We will wander, my friend, in the gray
Until the beckoning of ash and dust they come to claim
Our hearts and souls they act as one
To crush the dark, and bring the sun
I tried drawing Lydian last night, and found I couldn't do it. I need more details. How long is his hair? Is it straight or curly or in between? What shape is his chin? His nose? What expression is he usually wearing?zen5887 said:
I could just make all that up on the spot, but I don't think it would look anything like what you think he looks like.