Been some time since I touched the pencil. It wasn't easy to get back to drawing, since I was also distracted by the internet for some time. Lots of things went through my head, while I was out on a trip. Just drew whatever I felt like drawing, and this came alongside some reflections:
I have been stuck on fixing this character concept for a very long time, trying to box it within a classification. Bird, wyvern, dragon, shadow, whatever- I came to a point today, where I felt that it really doesn't matter anymore. This is that sort of character who can be everything.
I spent the entire afternoon trying to arrange all the little ideas and features, following true to creative intuition. Smashing together many of my previous character designs, this appeared. A masked and unnamed figure (???) with traits from many of my previous works.
An avian / draconic / spiritual shapeshifter has always been something with me all this time, even when I tried to create a sona years back (finding it meaningless). True to its nature, it has few lively features except its eyes and requires a mask to display additional signs of life.
Its clear that this character is basically a symbolic self-expression. It wasn't easy to seperate myself from my introjective tendencies, which easily distorts my concept of this figure (took weeks to untangle). Once the confusions loosen, it reappears with noticeably familiar features.
The scribble above still has some room for rearrangement, just limited by the irreversible nature of pencil drawing. The grey markings were too dark, and the feet might look better staying white. The pale golden underbody markings, were actually a surprise.
A pair of lungs being given in hands that represents my donors hands. The lungs are surrounded in flowers to symbolize the beautiful gift of organ donations. The lungs are also being represented with birds flying to symbolize life. This painting goes from dark at the bottom to lighter colors at the top to symbolize the darkness of someone’s death being transferred to saving of someone else’s life from their selfless act. I’m a lung recipient, and this is the story of my selfless donor!
Doodled this after my husband died of cancer. It's not only about embracing loneliness. It's about embracing all areas of my life which I have considered dark and not user friendly. Faber Castel black pen and a scribble of purple
This is a work I made as a reaction to a questionaire about suicide. I got over it, but I have been there, done that. Despair, the feeling of drowning, reaching out but never getting the help you need, deep dark depression, the grey-brown brainfog. Yet: there is some light, there always is, but I'm too scared to look at the light. I didn't varnish this pastel-drawing, just to accentuate the fragility of mental health. What you need to know it that I got out of this and so can you if you are this deep in trouble. I'm doing much better. January 2020, pastel on A3 paper.
Inspired by the Neo-Classical period, I pushed myself as an artist to portray subjects in an idealistic fashion combining drama and artificial lighting. The subject is my sister who modelled as a reference, enabling me to control the shadowy effect over her face. The dim lighting and dark background resonated with the period style, focusing on the facial parts that are visible. The end result looks like she is emerging from the darkness. A somber atmosphere is illustrated through visual expression.
Adding the fast drying oil on the brushes improved the blending of the colours on the canvas which was especially useful when it came to applying strokes on the face smoothly. Visit https://www.martiaposts.com for more
Through strange realms of odd memory, looking to gift something in eyes beautiful. What is this pain represented? Why these tears emerge? A darkness must always follow.
My biggest fear. My biggest fear is not the dark alleys I walk at night, the demons in my nightmares, the rise in knife and gun crime or terror attacks. My fear is like the people of troy bringing something in and it turning out to be something else than what I thought it to be. Sometimes it takes punching a hole in reality and a gallon of tears to realise you were wrong and fooled.
Tundra walls reveal a sickened creature on the edge of life. In time of passing, lost to history, but restored in the mentions of Earth. A darkness in last waves, but a reflection on the happiness, the loves of ones life respected and acknowledged.
