alone

One day, in the afternoon she was sitting on that seat with a thin heart. She was feeling watercolor with full brightness hitting her soul slowly. In her heart said, "what was I do? Everything is very simple, just follow the truth about my life. But, I can't do it and back anymore". If you like my art, you can check and follow me on Instagram: @misahiraysa or buy my artwork printed on : https://www.redbubble.com/i/art-board-print/The-hopeless-woman-by-misahiraysa/118536377.TR477

So doodling is truly an obsession w me. I always try to draw w-out thot & w unabandoned freedom... so trying to draw something that doesn't exist or creating odd critter scenarios is the goal yet my wit & craft always get in the way since after seeing things unfold that i can't help but to redefine & give them a definitive humorous caption. My sense of humor is constant. So here r a few things that revealed themselves to me... There's a bullet turtle [Ironic & similar to a bullet train] There's a piece of Indian corn bread which produces popcorn bread; In the back ground is a 'full' moon [Hence the burping & a Moon Wok. I like aesthetic things but my witty mind just won't leave enough alone!

Be Hold the Lamb of God Medium: Acrylic on canvas size:11”x12” Date 2019-2020 Artist: Stephen J. Vattimo This illustration is done for a mural portraying the earthly ministry of Jesus the Christ. This is number 8, out of 9 illustraitions. This illustration portrays Jesus after he dies on the cross. Biblical reference : Mark 15 : 33-39 33 At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. 34 And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).[b] 35 When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.” 36 Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said. 37 With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. 38 The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. 39 And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died,[c] he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” In doing my research : I found out that the crown of thorns might have been a cap, than a wreath. I t is my opinion that Mel Gibson’s portrayal of the brutality the Roman soldier inflicted on the body of Jesus, through the beatings and the 39 lashes with the cat of nine tails. This event was never visually captured in arts, until he made his movie The Passion of the Christ. Many don’t know what a cat of nine tales is, Roman style. A cat of nine tails are nine leather strap that are woven together at the handle. Each strap is laced with bone and other sharp objects. With each lash, flesh would be ripped from the victim’s body. Most of the illustration I have seen of the crucifixion of Jesus where quite sterile. They fail to illustrate the brutality. Their image of Jesus looks more like an under wear modal doing a photo shoot fore GQ magazine, Then the savor having the wrath of God being pored on his body for the payment of our sins. In this painting, I am place my viewer in the soldiers shoes, who just witnessed Jesus committing His spirit into God’s hands. Just as the soldier pondered the event he participated in , and looking into the face of Jesus, he proclaims, this man was truly the Son of God. Written by Stephen J. Vattimo 7/20/2020

"No matter how life gets you down, don't forget to smile." Approx. 5" x 5.5". Watercolor and ink. Depicted is my version the Joker, driven mad by solitude. Alone with his thoughts, he envisions things claimed to be impossible and understands that the spark of a thought is what makes things truly real. It is in this, he finds comfort and a reason to keep smiling.

This is a concept sketch for an illustration. Awhile ago, I wrote a story about a child who's kept home alone during the day. She makes the sun her "imaginary friend."

Quick Pencil Sketch

“Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.” ― Arthur C. Clarke

“I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best.”

Up on a hill, deep in Deadwood Lies an old shack, that fosters no good Inside this shack floats a very old being To seek it out, is to regret such a meeting A blue floating skull, who brings sweet promises of doom Sits all alone in a dark four corner room Why is the reason, this being is there Why does it beckon one to come near Its lonely and bored So it calls out to you The skull was once mighty and powerful too Causing great pain on subjects like you The beast of an age Caught by a mage imprisoned in here no longer to torment the world and spread fear But just being caught wasn’t enough It stifled its power but its will, was left uncorrupt The skull, now a seeker of dreams Destroyer of love, life, and of schemes #embracingnightmares

Nikola Tesla (1856–1943) After he had started his own company, Tesla arrived at the office at noon. Immediately, his secretary would draw the blinds; Tesla worked best in the dark and would raise the blinds again only in the event of a lightning storm, which he liked to watch flashing above the cityscape from his black mohair sofa. Tesla ate alone, and phoned in his instructions for the meal in advance. Upon arriving, he was shown to his regular table, where eighteen clean linen napkins would be stacked at his place. As he waited for his meal, he would polish the already gleaming silver and crystal with these squares of linen, gradually amassing a heap of discarded napkins on the table. And when his dishes arrived—served to him not by a waiter but by the maître d’hôtel himself—Tesla would mentally calculate their cubic contents before eating, a strange compulsion he had developed in his childhood and without which he could never enjoy his food. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Of all things, I liked books best.” ― Nikola Tesla “One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.” ― Nikola Tesla #dailyrituals #inktober #NikolaTesla @masoncurrey

So after seeing some pictures of his human pictures I wanted to make something. This is based off the YouTube video link below. This guy made Alastors radio show and its KA! You should go check it out, I like to listen to it when I'm alone at the office, or when I study or whenever really. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ns18ZVI-ObQ

Luminary Festival - Auren Farkis (Digital Portrait I did as a colour study) Crisp reverberating strings danced through the evening. Notes twisted and echoed up through the emerald, velvet tiers of Ridgedow Gardens. Dusk’s veil had long since darkened to a diamond-encrusted black, and Clarglow was alive with activity. Footpaths were choked with revellers that formed a river of light that coursed and pulsed through the park. Will-o-whisp spots of light also glowed among the neatly trimmed hedgerows and statues. Their magic-addled voices rose up, joining in with the music of the Luminary Festival. A young man, no more than a quarter of a century old, glowed brightest of all. A soft orange radiated from his eyes, and his veins pulsed a brilliant red. He was dripping in gold and gems. Over an outfit that somehow managed to be heavily layered and revealing at the same time, he wore a sheer cape, which was heavily embroidered with blood-red crystals that refracted his own light around him in dazzling, concentrated rays. It was such a dangerous colour of magic, but his expression was soft and dreamy. Excited laughter rose up as a clustered group shot metallic confetti skyward. Gold flake drifted down and settled into his silver hair, cheeks, and shoulders. No doubt he would discover the remnants of this festival in his home weeks from now. He increased his pace, stepping off the cobbled path to overtake the group, when one of their number split from the group. The coils of her dark hair were so saturated with gold that she looked like she belonged on a pedestal next to the other statues. She intercepted him, matching his pace. She snaked a long, slender arm around his waist and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his neck, leaving a wake of golden kisses up to his earlobe, where she leaned closer to whisper. — “Aurie, Luv, I know that look. Don’t tell me you’re headed home. The eve has only just begun. “ Her glowing eyes Locked with Auren’s, her grip tightening, slowing the both of them to a stop, causing a temporary blockage in the flow of people. “Overdid myself Mel.. you’ll have to –” –” Come with us to the reflecting pool.” She cooed, meeting his lips in an off-center kiss, smearing his inky wine lipstick. Momentarily, he allowed himself to relax. He considered saying yes. His heart pounding, he dipped his friend backwards gracefully, resenting that he had to leave. An itch in his left arm reminded his fuzzy brain that he was in danger. Gasping softly, he gently lifted Mella upright and spun her out towards her friends, who were growing impatient. He couldn’t make out their faces in the fuzz of the evening. “I can’t, I’m sorry Mel! We’ll talk later.” Before she could protest, he danced, spinning forward in a brilliant display of speed that ended in a stumble as he met a set of steep steps that coiled sharply upwards out of the park and onto the pink brick streets overlooking Ridgedow Gardens. The glazed windows facing the street were empty and blank… their occupants elsewhere, enjoying the festival. The empty buildings were like faces, judging him for his lack of zeal. Auren wound his way through streets and side streets, his pace increasing as he grew more and more alone. Finally, he was climbing a set of steps to his own front door. Smirking at the sight of it he reached down into the front of the bodice that held together the layers of his outfit pulling free a loop of keys that were on a long chain looped around his neck. Aligning it to the keyhole he struggled with the lock, cursing softly under his breath as it initially failed to cooperate with him. In the quiet black of his foyer, he latched the door behind him and stumbled forward, tearing at the ribbon that held the gleaming cape that draped from his bare shoulders. He let it drop on a black lacquered table. He reached up to unclasp an elaborate choker and tore his single, crimson glove down from his elbow. He pressed a gilded fingernail against a band of red ink encroached upon by a spreading corruption. Marginally extending beyond the band were sinews of mismatched muscle and skin; even his hair had begun to glow red. Pulse rising, he wrenched his rings from his fingers, casting them into the ever-darkening room. Precious jewellery piled under him until only the dimmest glow from his own veins remained.. Slumping onto the steps, he tightened his grip on his arm and twisted it ninety degrees. A sharp click of crystal against porcelain met his ears. The room was enveloped in black as his final stone slid away from his arm, rendering the prosthesis inert. He slid to his side, the sounds of the party below overtaken by his own gasping breaths, panic refusing to subside alongside his magic.

My fears are being alone and the dark and the things in the dark.

In my worldbuilding imps are silly monsters who love having fun,they are the weakest demons to live despite having super super strength.imps come in all shapes,colors and sizes.an imp can have 2 legs or 4 legs,3 eyes or 5 eyes,horns or hornless wings or no wings.imps rarely kill and if they do then it's for self defense, most end up being killed by stronger demons.imps live in groups like a family and are rarely alone.when imps go to the mortal world,they torment and trick people,imps love to be around children since they are playful.imps torture people and find torture to be amusing and better than killing (imps never kill people)if an imp kills an person they are shunned and regarded to be too dangerous to be around other imps

Aloneness and loneliness expressed via doodles

Pencil Drawing

When I was a child, whenever I was alone or lonely, I would fantasize about having super powers and being able to fly out into the universe and do anything. In my own world, I will always be the protagonist in my own story, guarding the lights of thousands of homes, world peace.

"English as She is Spoke" is a delightful example of incompetence and bad judgement. Jose da Fonseca and Pedro Carolina set out to write a Portuegese-English phrasebook. The only problem was that they didn't speak any English. They did know some French and armed with French-English phrasebook, dictionaries and enthusiasm they brought forth this phrasebook. Mark Twain was an early admirer of this book. "Nobody can add to the absurdity of this book, nobody can imitate it successfully, nobody can hope to produce its fellow; it is perfect, it must and will stand alone: its immortality is secure." I need some levity and silliness. I hope you do too. Esperái ôu espere úm pôuco. Stop a little.

torn paper and paint

Peter took His Eye off Jesus and began to sink. Medium: Acrylic on canvas Size: 11”x 15” Date: 2019-2020 This illustration is one of nine, in a mural about the ministry of Christ. This image is block number 7. This painting illustrates Jesus rescuing peter, as he start to sink in to the sea, because he lost his faith when took his eyes off Jesus, and focused on the violence of the winds and waves of the storm. Matthew 14:22-33 New American Standard Bible (NASB) Jesus Walks on the Water 22 Immediately He [a]made the disciples get into the boat and go ahead of Him to the other side, while He sent the crowds away. 23 After He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone. 24 But the boat was already [b]a long distance from the land, [c]battered by the waves; for the wind was [d]contrary. 25 And in the [e]fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea. 26 When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out [f]in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” 28 Peter said to Him, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” 29 And He said, “Come!” And Peter got out of the boat, and walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31 Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him, and *said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32 When they got into the boat, the wind stopped. 33 And those who were in the boat worshiped Him, saying, “You are certainly God’s Son!” When I did my research, I Found very few biblical accurate illustrations of the event. Very few captured the darkness and valiance of a stormy sky taking place at 3:00 am in the morning (which is the forth watch of the night. Many illustrations I found, their skies were too bright and calm. I found that the seas in these illustration had the same lack of movement and violence, the sea would have in a storm that was so strong the disciples were not able to make any headway in their crossing the lake. I notice that all illustrations of Jesus walking on water, show the viewer His feet. In reality the waves would most likely block the viewer from seeing his feet on top of the water. The unavoidable black eye in most of these illustrations of Jesus walking on water, is the ridicules and unrealistic possess they have Jesus in, of Him rescuing Peter. You know the ones where He is making some kind of sign with one hand, as it is held up toward the sky, and one hand reaching down to peter. What was I trying to accomplish in my illustration? I want to be careful, to being accurate with costumes styles, and colors worn by the poor people of Galilean society. I wanted to be accurate in illustrating a storm on the sea of Galilee. I looked over numerous photos on line, of storms taking place on the Sea of Galilee. To understanding how the water and sky behave during a storm I studied the colors of sky, clouds, and water, during these conditions, in this location of the world? Showing movement in the air and the water. I used stylist brush strokes, to create movement in the sky and in the water. I am hoping to make people feel the storm’s violent energy. Showing power of the wind blowing against the bodies of Jesus and peter, through the movement of clothes, and hair. Showing the anxiety of Pete, with his body swallowed up to the waist, his face looking up to Jesus to rescue him from drowning. Showing that Jesus offers security to Peter, from being swept away by the wave of the sea. By his secure grasp of Peter’s back arms. He is able to lift Peter out of the water. The message I want my view to receive, is that everyone who comes into the world will experience trials and tribulation. We can overcome our fears and be filled with courage, to enable us to battle our ways through these storm in life. When we place our trust in the one who has authority over the power of the storm, who is Jesus a member of the trinity of God that created all things. Written by Stephen J. Vattimo 3/16/2020

This is the story of a Hitchhiker who found himself lost in the jungle, alone and afraid. To cope with his aloneness, his mind started to hallucinate that he had a companion by his side. He said, 'Do you think people travel by this route?'. His friend answered 'Absolutely, let us sit on this rock and hitch a ride with the next person that comes by...'

To consume, witness vibrant hallucinations through dark struggles in life. What fears must lurk here? Alone in tundra steps further, thinking of a different age.

Young mind in thoughts that feature happiness, contemplating worry, beauty from surrounding Earth, and the creative walls that bloom eyes curious. Alone in nude steps of silence.

When I was a teen, my grandfather had alzheimers, a failing heart, and half of one lung. He was covered with scars and sometimes muttered at walls. I was asked to keep an eye on him, briefly, one afternoon, while my grandmother did something else. While I was alone with him, he looked at an empty space right next to me, and whispered: "Mom? Dad? Is that you?" With the exception of getting hit by a car, that was the most terrifying moment of my life.

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