fat

Superstitions: Nipples According to a strange middle-european superstition, it is possible to tell from a man's nipples whether or not he has fathered children. If they are pink in colour, then he has not - while if they are brown, then he has! https://www.instagram.com/p/CE9eRXBBeRQ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Nornwan. Once there were Nature dwelling elves. They only ever lived, frolicked and played in the deep woods. Their bodies were quite accustomed to the trees. They could speak with the elements of nature, they could make the trees move and cause great mushrooms to grow from the earth. Theirs was the power to ask the spirits that watched over the wood fro guidance and peace. The Knights Factions implored these wild folk for aid on one fateful day. Few elves agreed to give trees and other supplies to the army, those that did not were attacked and destroyed and given no help by the army of Knights.

The lord of winter has had many wives throughout his life and many half god children. Wren and Wilder are two of them. Twins who do mischief in an attempt to get some attention from their distant father.

I love fat hens

A landscape that I did about my father while he was alive. He was a sheep farmer and he planted tress on his hill farm.This is done in memory of him as he died from cancer.Its a finished piece and based on sketches I did. Its an acrylic painting and 1/10 in a body of work.

A simple drawing for the new part of Split Of Fate. "Chain and collar" - https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/141547/split-of-fate/chapter/3150236/chain-and-collar

The Grandpa Knee from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson An old man who was old enough to be his own grandfather said to himself, Grandpa, may I sit on your knee? And replied, Sit on your own knee, you're old enough to be your own grandpa. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj0e-8FOTPX/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

The Jack Story from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson. There was the Jack of the beanstalk story, and a Jack Sprat who could eat no fat. And there was Jack-in-a-box who used to spring out of a box for no reason at all. And Jack who broke his crown fetching water with a certain Jill. Not to forget little Jack Horner, or the jack who jumped over a candlestick... Theirs is a club of Jacks. https://www.instagram.com/p/CjniuMsuDWM/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Életünket most erdőrengetegnek képzelem, amelyben mindenki képességének megfelelő tudással, erkölccsel, tapasztalatokban edzett bölcsességgel élezett fejszéjével vág magának utat, esetleg ösvényt az értelme határáig húzódó világában. A sűrűség bódító leheletében szuszog a figyelmeztetés: ne vágj ki minden fát! Az ember néha mégis, mint megveszekedett fejsze, ide-oda csapkod, pánikol, mert nem találja a megfejthetetlenül göcsörtös mindennapokból a megnyugváshoz vezető, az örömmel járható aszfaltot. /Tar Károly/ Festette: Ildikó Tuloková https://www.facebook.com/108474391287888/posts/116242793844381/?d=n

These are the results from a request to create a piece based on a fathers son's nicknames. The older brother is the moon, second the bear, third the bird. Added the stars as the parents. His first request was of a tattoo of sorts ...but I struggled and my drawings kept turning into children illustrations. I so enjoyed the challenge and it gave me an opportunity to honor the love of family. At the same time, it was hard to associate them into a tattoo:) .

9X12 Bristol board using fat tech pen/India ink and a # 3 tech marker.

You know you can always count on me, friend Like no one else, I've gotten used to the coldness of the stone So I can be with you often Silver rain will wash away the tears of the Dread Sky I will rise with the sun… I will rise with the sun… - Valyrym.  Referring to the story "The Dragon In The Dungeon" Some say I'm hitting the point. So I strike again. When the Writer dies, the World creates a seemingly imperceptible void, a void waiting to be filled, greedily begging others for revelation.  For the next One to take its place in this great spiral. Light. Narrow tunnel. Echoes. Arise. Rest in Peace Coyote - Of The Wilds was a talented writer, author of many fantastic stories which he never managed to finish. He was able to convey true, deep emotion through words, through many unfinished stories. Now, through the ending of the Story. These stories have contributed a lot to my life in 2020, as I wrote about in “Split Of… Personality”. Like for many others, he inspired me to create. I wrote “Split Of Fate”, deleted it, now I'm bringing it back to life, but I also have other plans - regarding the stories of Of The Wilds… but more on that later… This was difficult to draw. Difficult without getting eyes wet. Just a quick doodle… Well, if I were nearby, I would place an apple on his grave. 

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

King of the rot King of decay Worlds will end, upon his say King of the rot King of decay Is all you bring, just misery? Upon my cries i heard him say “Yes its true, I’m father to dismay” “Loathe me, hate my ways” “But look beyond the death” “You find in my wake” “I may swallow life” “I may bring pain” “But how beautiful is the rose that blooms on the grave?” “How soft to the touch is the grass, after the rain?” “I am the king of rot” “I am the king of decay” “But i also bring new life to the day” #embracingnightmares

"Like maggots in a dog's carcass, they fill me, my children..." A cosmic being known as "The Sleeper", "The Ugly", but most often he is proudly called "The Father". "Like maggots in a dog's carcass, they fill me, my children..." A cosmic being known as "The Sleeper", "The Ugly", but most often he is proudly called "The Father". I SWEAR I made him before I knew about Barbatos. Anyway, The Father sleeps deep beneath Gotham and unwittingly poisons the city and its population with his toxic aura. He is known to his cult as the God of Madness and Chaos. He simply cannot control his influence on those around, which makes him a villain of a tragic fate. I figured his existence would be a good enough explanation for why Gotham is such a rotten piece of society, with very creative supervillains who loves to be so extra and why they not executed horribly for everything they've done. The cult of his worshippers is quite old and includes a huge number of people trying to keep him asleep, because if he wakes up and gets out of his prison, it will be the end of the city, and maybe not only the city... I should point out: he's not actually a god, he's an alien, and he's not the embodiment of "chaos and madness" - he's a cosmic horror, most likely mentally ill and therefore his aura is toxic. He didn't create the villains or Batman, but his aura affected the environment in which they were created.

From my fictional sci-fantasy universe, featured in the planed novell "Tigers Fate" sheduled for as early as 2023. The Monitor in the picture is Nathan, ex-military and a former mercenary. pencil on paper.

I’ve been busy working on a children’s book with my characters from @amousenamedpeter. It’s a tribute to my father, who passed last year, about the night many moons ago when he built a swing set for me. Here’s page 1

One of my favorite times of the year is Autumn. It’s a time that reminds me how blessed I am for the rich friendships I have in my life. It’s also a time I enjoy making new memories with relatives I have a deep emotional bond. And for some reason, pumpkins symbolizes this wealth of love I have for these loved ones. Maybe because orange is a passionate color for me. Or maybe because the color orange is abundant during this season when warm a fuzzy feelings show up when I’m with my loved ones. This hue is in pumpkins, persimmons, hot apple cider beverages, cinnamon spice on pies or lattes, and the obvious autumn leaves. But my focus for this illustration were big, fat pumpkins. I love hugging and squeezing them and feeling it’s cold flesh on my skin. I look forward to my next bite of pumpkin pie from our very good friend, Terry, who makes them very excellently!

Humble Thy Self In The Sight Of The Lord This Pen And Ink was rendered from a image Of the painting entitled," The Prayer At Valley Forge" by artist Arnold Fryberg. I drew this rendering from my computer screen. It took a couple of hour to draw. I carved this image on a pumpkin at the annual Chadds Ford Historical Society Great Pumpkin Carve. So this rendering was done as a guide not a finished piece . As you look over this picture you will notice the ink ran in a few places, that is be cause it was raining while I was carving the pumpkin. Even though I had clear plastic laid over the picture, rain still got it wet. It seem like almost ever time I took part in this event it has rained . The reason I chose to carve this image is be cause the battle of the Brandywine was fought around the town of Chadds Ford, and because George Washington was a renown Christian man of Prayer. Just as the thirteen colony were freighting their way through hell to gain their independence from England, I feel our nation is going through Hell to maintain the principle the founding fathers had laid as the foundation of this country. Our country is in trouble and no political party can save this nation, only The American People who humble themselves before God, repent of their rebellious ways against God, and pray for His forgiveness, and seek Him to guild our nation out of the dark,and back into the light. Then will our nation be able to receive blessings from the hand of God. Stephen J. Vattimo July 16, 2012 See Less

Ngaiteii being taken by the spirit of her father who turned into a serpent

So why didn't Empress Electric make it back from their first tour? The answer is simple. The daffodils. Without Gale to tend to them, to keep the Jagged at bay, it began to wake up. Few are aware that the Jagged is all that remains of Fate. Now he's waking up- and the whole realm will feel his betrayed wrath without the Sisters of Subconscious to protect them. Radiation is coming.

Jumping in late and possibly one of a few one-offs...going to try to make the time. My father's old Navy blade with a male and female deer skull(s).

These are the results from a request to create a piece based on a fathers son's nicknames. The older brother is the moon, second the bear, third the bird. Added the stars as the parents. His first request was of a tattoo of sorts ...but I struggled and my drawings kept turning into children illustrations. I so enjoyed the challenge and it gave me an opportunity to honor the love of family. At the same time, it was hard to associate them into a tattoo:) .

Pencil Eye Study

Observations from an expedition to the Houston Museum of Natural Science, which features an incredible paleontology hall. I brought with me a pad of sticky notes, a couple Micron plastic nib pens, a set of Copic Markers, my fanny pack, and some headphones. Prehistoric life has been an infatuation of mine since childhood, and there is something very humbling about drawing in the shadows of these fallen giants.

A piece I did for a book about my life.