elf

When my mind is running wild and i start to feel anxious, i try to remind myself to just feel my heart. This helpes me alot. And the little friends are always there, no matter what:)) Wish you a wonderful and magical day!

For any of you missing the outdoors: Picture yourself sitting on the edge of the lake, dipping your toes in the cool water. Feel the wind whisk around you as the sun goes down. You can hear the birds chirping as they settle in for the night. And if you listen close enough, you can hear the old pines whispering tales and stories of the forest long ago. :)

My self-sketch using pencils, of me sitting on the banks of a river.

Recents. And riffs on the elf thing.

Marginalias' character are starting to flesh out, even if I still don't have a story. These two are the princess (Who still doesn't have a name. Diana maybe?) a peryton and Ancelade, an atlas lion. They met when they were kid ( 9-10 for Ancelade, about fifteen for the princess). Ancelade was brought back from a war campaign by an old veteran knight who more or less adopted him and the Princess, when meeting a dirty, shivering lion cub, took him under her wing right away (quite literally, he used to fit under her wing, not anymore). (The joke, every time this episode is mentioned, is that Ancelade's adoptive father, while already having fathered children, had no idea how to care for a child and probably thought they were self cleaning). Once Ancelade properly cleaned up, the Princess discovered he was blond AND fluffy. Ten years later, she is still the only one allowed to touch his mane. Each think of the other as the brother or sister they don't have anymore. Even if everyone always ask them the same old question to which they answer in a mature and articulated way: Are you lovers?

Oil pastels on black card.

Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.

Challenge myself 21 Day. It's First day.

Been hillwalking a lot more than I used to, and it's starting to show itself in my doodles :)

From doodle to a full render, this poor creature managed to find herself stranded in the middle of space! What’s worse is the space police found her!

2014 Self Portrait

“It’s a slow-burn, post-war portrait of a closed, traditionalist society slowly collapsing in on itself!” - me

from the Presence illustrated series.

To continue the snarled up knotted theme. It's sometimes hard to separate yourself from the feelings of others. Sometimes I don't even know where I end or begin. https://www.instagram.com/p/Ceg4Ue2p0cW/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

A great deal of upheaval in my personal life, including making steps to better my mental health as well as reflecting on changes in my work life (potentially) and also my living situation, have dominated my headspace as of late. Long story short, Buddha reminding us all to still any madness in life got me to work here as did the obvious itch to get some drawing done!

Who is Gault ? See link : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzyJOln6GqE&t=935s

These pictures were done on different days. The last one being for prompt itself.

Watering scene, hand-drawn illustration

Zebra SARASA 0.5 pen on dot grid paper

from "Présence" series.

The part of us ruled by those mischievous little Angels. Selfishly cheerful. Beautifully naughty. Destructive in their creativity. Mostly lost in the rudiments of time. . . Unless you hold on tight.

Keep Your Eyes on the Lamp Bearer. Don’t walk around aimlessly. Don’t leave your armor on your bed chamber’s floor. Keep your eyes and ears focused on Jesus. He is the lamp bearer, who illuminates the path you should travel. Don’t walk around aimlessly! Don’t leave your armor on your bedchamber’s floor. Specters are crouched in the shadows of the thicket that line your path. They plot to ambush you as soon as you wander aimlessly into the thicket. Keep your eyes and ears focused on Jesus. He is the lamp bearer, who illuminates the path you should travel. If you have walked into a fog and lost your focus, If you have walked aimlessly into the shadows the thicket If you find yourself in the clutches of the specters of the dark Don’t be anxious. Don’t lose hope. Humble yourself and call out to your commander. He will send in his angelic army to retrieve you To restore you back to the ranks of His army Don’t walk around aimlessly. Don’t leave your armor on your bedchamber’s floor! Keep your eyes and ears focused on Jesus. He is the lamp bearer, who illuminates the path you should travel. (December 3, 2016)

Drypoint superimposing the matrix and the artwork itself

This beautifull peace I did in the course I had in university, reproduction. I really surprised myself with the result ^_^ . It is done with oilcolors on canvas.

Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. This one I limited myself to a 100 pixel x 100 pixel canvas.

Nikola Tesla (1856–1943) After he had started his own company, Tesla arrived at the office at noon. Immediately, his secretary would draw the blinds; Tesla worked best in the dark and would raise the blinds again only in the event of a lightning storm, which he liked to watch flashing above the cityscape from his black mohair sofa. Tesla ate alone, and phoned in his instructions for the meal in advance. Upon arriving, he was shown to his regular table, where eighteen clean linen napkins would be stacked at his place. As he waited for his meal, he would polish the already gleaming silver and crystal with these squares of linen, gradually amassing a heap of discarded napkins on the table. And when his dishes arrived—served to him not by a waiter but by the maître d’hôtel himself—Tesla would mentally calculate their cubic contents before eating, a strange compulsion he had developed in his childhood and without which he could never enjoy his food. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey “Of all things, I liked books best.” ― Nikola Tesla “One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.” ― Nikola Tesla #dailyrituals #inktober #NikolaTesla @masoncurrey