Whenever I go to the art store, I see those pencils, erasers, sharpeners, sketch pads eager to graduate from the store to their rightful owners for another schooling which they only graduate when been used up.
She dances, sings, sways toward the movement of the wind silent in efforts of reaching for the clouds. Hues of wonderful branches arise from the earth to present a walking portray of lively whispers. Amused at the sight of hands locked, a walk begins.
Consume these branches swollen by humanity fractured in dim lights, though feature promise in deeper efforts of kindness, blood cover our parts closer. Thoughts wonder red fever beneath bones of oceanic memory, to voyage away and try to understand this method. Extinction loom over these motions, while further be the faint reminder of our fate.
Sometime last year when I went to my village after a while, some of the buildings I saw were now modern, they no more use mud bricks to build. What I saw was like the mud houses are giving way for the sky scrapers.
I took too long of a break from drawing, but so far this is coming out well. I've tried to go for a sci-fi theme, which is my favorite genre, but definitely not where my strengths are. Criticism, critiques, and suggestions are very much welcome! Also I'm going to have to find a new way of uploading my work.
Dark oceanic blunder focus distance and disturbance fully. Bleeding creature in tears of this manifestation growing. Horrendous branches consume while last thoughts falter, compose this ending formation.
To become selfish in manners that depict a lack of understanding, a horrid brooding fire contact fractured arms completely. Harm composed by the ashes that follow. A tundra voyage in need.
Deep thoughts compose these kinds of oddity fully. Severed ways of a child begin darkness, but these waves of good manner determine a decent stride to come. A belief in harmony to bloom soon.
An image depicting the taking of a mother fighting for her life as she holds her child. In tears while Reaper smiles heavily. Emotional valley weep thorns in their struggle to be together one last time.
I’m fascinated in how something may make you feel. For instance, I’m deeply moved by images of outer space from the Hubble space telescope, but I do not try to recreate those photographs in my work. What does not exist in those photos, is how they may make us feel. This is why you won’t see any “realism” in my art. When we send astronauts to space, they can discuss factually what is happening, but what truly moves human beings is when astronauts describe how they felt while they were there. So, I choose to express how I feel, as opposed to illustrate what I see.
