Watercolour crayon, crayon, fineliner and acrylic paint.. . . . . ... . .... . ... . . . ... . . .. . . . . . . Just your run of the mill tree bearing owl with a pipe in hand and a story to tell. .... . . .. . . . . .. . . . . .. ... ... ......... ... .. A3 prints for sale ( 12 left out of 20 at the time of going to press )
made with gel ink pen for a future art book about mediterranean way of life. In the streets of Napoli we can find these little virgo statues in every corners and big men shirtless
I have not posted or been on in a while, we had a bit of a rough time lately and so I have not had time to be on here or draw a lot. Here is fanart I did a very long time ago. I hope you all are doing better then I am! :)
As requested by @zubia This is Orkinia, a super bad a** lady who kicks much butt with her side kick Chubby. I had so much fun recreating her! Please drop more requests in the comments :)
I don't mess with oceans. One time, I just wanted to cool off on the edge. The undertow was so strong that I got trapped, knee-deep from the shore. Nothing I could do but just wait for the giant wave to pile-drive me into the beach. So much sand crack.
And they say that the elves in the Wilderness had no names for their gods , perhaps that is why they have all been forgotten .
They did not call them gods , the elves liked to call them "spirits" .
The unknowable primal forces granted them abilities .
They could implore the trees for aid .
And call upon mighty winds to defend them .
And ask the rivers and rain for healing and comfort .
And in return, they tended the garden of the great spirits , ever watchful and protective of the many lifeforms that lived within the great circle.
We are all part of the great circle, the only way to escape it is to cut yourself off form everyone and everything , it is a hard path ... . . . . thank you
World gone to hell
Sons duaghters leaving their families homes, dying of a new and namles plague. Where are the gods? And what has become of my hero? I am king, but no more subjects are under my command.
A kingdom falls. A new age dawns, the illest omens herald its bitter arrival .
God preserve us.
We have forasken god, they do not forasake us.
This is why we must be stricken with sickness. . . .. … …
Weep for me.
Weep for all our brothers and sisters.
And now every uncreative poet and halfwit bard seeks to make drama of our troubles.
We are their muse, their grand epic to tell the children.
Fear the virus, dont look away, disturb the dead, praise us for our lies to you. They lead the masses to slay each out of fear.
Cry.
Yes, cry
Cry for your fallen.
They will not be returning for you soon.
But you are still alive, and for that you shall become stronger.
Onward
We cannot always bury the dead. Today , time is against us. We move foward, we carry the sorrow, but the ultimate goal is to defeat sorrow. Whatever form this darkess takes, we face it. Unafraid. And unrelenting.
Forge on into the night. Not gently and quiet shall be our passing.
For, if i am to end, and you likewise, we plant our flag atop the highest hill.
We scream our battle cry and let none forget our actions
.
The very mountains will shake, and echo our last breath.
This is my promise.
If i shall die, i die as i am now
A man. I have decided.
So, i die
…..
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKXBKF6a2BWVDy_SgMvk8GQ?view_as=subscriber
Today’s urban sketching effort. I tried to capture light coming through windows at St Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh. Posca markers, brush pens and water soluble pencil on brown A4
