It’s taken me until the ripe old age of 33 to do a Jungle Book tribute, in spite of it being my all-time favourite film along with The Mask and Baloo the Bear (along with Donald Duck) my favourite Disney character but alas… better late to the party than not show up at all, am I right?
First one is a random doodle, I need to finish. 2nd doodle is an Oomkin (Or Boomkin) very happy and thrilled to get a lot of food. Third doodle is of an owlbear.
Reminds me of a Buddhist proverb: Patiently I will bear harsh words as the elephant bears arrows on the battlefield. Words are powerful. They stir emotions. We are the managers of our emotions. It is not what happens to us that is the issue, it is our opinion of what happens to us that is the issue. Peace.
Bearskullpine
A new bigger version of my earlier drawing
In the Finnish mythology killing of a bear was followed by a great feast in honour of the bear (peijaiset), where a substantial part of the celebrations consisted of convincing the bear's spirit that it had died accidentally and hadn't been murdered. Afterwards, the bear's skull was hung high upon a pine tree so its spirit could re-enter the heavens. The bones of the bear were then buried under the pine.
In fact, she [Mummy] said after a while, we have gone into hibernation. Nobody can get in any longer and no one can get out!
I looked carefully at her and understood that we were saved. At last we were absolutely safe and protected.
This menacing snow had hidden us inside in the warm for ever and we didn't have to worry a bit about what went on there outside. I was filled with enormous relief, and I shouted, I love you I LOVE YOU, and took all the cushions and threw them at her and laughed and shouted and Mummy threw them all back and in the end we were lying on the floor just laughing.
Then we began our underground life. We walked around in our nighties and did nothing. Mummy didn't draw. We were bears with pine needles in our stomachs and anyone who dared come near our winter lair was torn to pieces. We were lavish with the wood, and threw log after log on to the fire until it roared.
Sometimes we growled. We let the dangerous world outside look after itself, it had died, it had fallen out into space. Only Mummy and I were left.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
Grandfather was a clergyman and used to preach to the King. Once, before his children and his children's children and his children's children's children covered the face of the earth, Grandfather came to a long field which was surrounded by forests and hills so that it looked like Paradise. At one end it opened out into a bay for his descendants to bathe in.
Then Grandfather thought, here will I dwell and multiply, for verily this is the Land of Canaan.
Then Grandfather and Grandmother built a big two-storey house with a sloping roof and lots of rooms and steps and terraces and a huge veranda and placed plain wooden furniture everywhere inside and outside the house and when it was ready Grandfather began to plant things until the field became a Garden of Eden where he walked around in his big black beard. All he had to do was to point at a plant and it was blessed and grew until it groaned under its own weight.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
Side Face Model Portrait Art by Oz Galeano
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Side Face Model Drawing Color Sketch by Oz Galeano
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https://www.fiverr.com/s/6WzyVL
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https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/ozgaleano/
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St. WIlgefortis. Patron Saint of facial hair and of people seeing a refuge from abusive husbands (and fathers).
When I was doing my research into existing Patron Saints, I stumbled onto St. Wilgefortis. I thought that was a fun combination - until I read to the end. From Wikipedia: "According to the legend of her life, set in Portugal and Galicia, she was a teenage noblewoman who had been promised in marriage by her father to a Moorish king. To thwart the unwanted wedding, she had taken a vow of virginity, and prayed that she would be made repulsive. In answer to her prayers she sprouted a beard, which ended the engagement. In anger, Wilgefortis' father had her crucified."
I considered giving her a knife, to fight off the unwanted husbands and vile fathers, but that would not be true to her suffering. So I included her blood instead.
#dailydrawing #patronSaint