--- His wide doll-like eyes go distant as he focuses on the assembled bones from the crypt. Tendrils of blood knit between his long fingers as he begins to weave his spell-work, expertly puppeting the dead. Their bones scrape against each other assembling into familiar shapes. His old friends sway in the dusty air. Their hollow eyes stare back at him awaiting a command. It comes once they're all upright. The Karnathi warriors don their armour and raise their weapons again despite the laws that forbid it, despite what may wait for Sir ir'Olar when judgement comes for him. This was what he was raised to do. It was cruel for the world to toss him aside now that things are peaceful.
As a child of the 70s, I have very fond memories of sitting on the floor in front of our little colour TV, and watching and adoring Lynda Carter bounce around, kicking ass and fighting crime. I’ve always loved Wonder Woman, and I'm fascinated by the myriad ways she’s been imagined and re-imagined over the years.
For mine I focused on her dualism – the goddess beauty vs warrior strength, combined with the colour and curves of my childhood. In terms of the art, I thought it would be fun to allude to classicism for the subjects association with Greek mythology and form, and balletic contrapposto as a homage to Lynda's classic spin.
Prints available via my website.
“A Saian boasts about the shield which beside a bush
though good armour I unwillingly left behind.
I saved myself, so what do I care about the shield?
To hell with it! I'll get one soon just as good.”- variant of a poem from Archilochus
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