Qasaherim and Elvarelyn two of my female demon characters I have created years ago (especially the one on the right i created her when I was 10).one is a spiteful rebel the other is a domineering termagent,can you guess which one?Such old artwork dates back I think 2018?hence the notebook paper.i know uploading old art is stale and repetitive,today is probably the last day I will upload irrelevant junk.
Day 2: Puppy, for the DoodleWash Art challenge. A subject I always enjoy drawing. I was in the mood for a floofy boi and corgi pups are full of floof. #doodlewashnovember2019
An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
In wanting to get active with my fellow doodler community, I wanted to stop in and introduce myself. My name is Dalton Stark, I live in Texas, and i'm a doodle addict, and an advocate for the possibility of anything. For me, doodling is my purest state of being human. My sketchbooks are a very sacred place for me to practice this expressive and arcane form of imagination meditation, which I'm always trying to find more excuses to spend more time in. It is to me, all about intuition, making discoveries, surprising yourself, having fun and maybe even making yourself and others smile or laugh sometimes. I look forward to being a part of this beautiful inky ecosystem with y'all, here are some very secret sketchbook spreads.
Fineliner scribblings on a back ground of paper... . . . ... . . . . . . ..... . ... . . . . . ...... ... . . A rabble of sozzled birds on a tightrope of joy heading towards the puppet master up above. . . .... . . ... . .... .. .... .. ... . . . . Prints are available (16 out of 20 at the time of going to press) . ..............................
This piece was done with watercolour crayons, crayons, fineliner, acrylic paint and a touch of posca. I was showing that love can be blind and sometimes almost arrogant and selfish, the arrow has hit the spot on the second attempt but the scars are still to be seen. Although the person playing cupid aint always an outside force. I enjoy playing with the titles and am constantly changing and thinking of what it will be called when doing the piece, but i do like my wordplay. this one was a play on horticulture and felt it all tied in to the final design :))
This is available as an a3 sized print.
deep in thought and under attack from extra terrestrial beings that are harvesting his mind. with added tape on nipple to protect his dignity and censorship. ( although its a man nipple so it should be ok )
"I don't want to be here. I want to go back." *Her hands pressed against the glass tank. Her eyes searched his eyes, a silent plead. But the prince just smiled, not a charming pleasant one. It was one with dark intent. "You will never leave. This is your home. So enjoy the attention as you get it."
"Lost little red." *He took a step closer as he towered her smaller form. He chuckled lowly as if her mere presence was a joke to him. He reached out, his long, sharp, black claws touched a strand of brown hair. "What a little snack you'll make."
Day two of my art training! It took way too long, haha. So, anyways, this is my DnD character, Pox's, dad. I have no idea what to name him because lately, I have been very uncreative. Anyways! This guy is the god of illness and poison, and is just generally really cool. I like him, even if I don't like this drawing all too much.
Something is brewing in my head and I can't get it to stop. Sooooo, I'm thinking a supernatural feel similar to Gravity Falls. I'm not sure where these two are going, but we doing something.
