Weirdly enough, I never used to feel bothered by winter. A sign I’m “getting on a bit” as they say? I’m 32 come April, not 102 for feck’s sake! Whatever the case, roll on spring and general warmth, long overdue I have to say…
That time when Tyrion and Bronn walked away from the Eyrie after winning a trial by combat. I like to think of them as a couple of misfits traveling the mountain roads passing by the knights of the Vale, Vale commoners and hill tribesmen! *I have already completed the entire Inktober- you can check it out on my IG account: @dittofunkysketch123 :D
Wanted a fantasy comp but with a unique color palette and a modern subject. I also wanted the foreground to appear as a very distinct layer hoping the landscape appears downhill to the viewer. I used Barad-dûr as inspiration for the castle ruins.
One of my early oils from 2017. I was still getting used to the medium. I liked how the oils worked well for the misty distant hills, and I used glazing for the first time on the clouds.
Dragging through the snow
On a one-girl open sled
Over the hills we go…
“Why aren’t we there yet?”
PenguinGirl can never say NO to chocolate, and Fatty McPingoo (the fat penguin with the Harry Potter scarf) knows it all too well!
I drew this in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, imagining PenguinGirl and her friends traveling in the snow to a Christmas party
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?
Up on a hill, deep in Deadwood
Lies an old shack, that fosters no good
Inside this shack floats a very old being
To seek it out, is to regret such a meeting
A blue floating skull, who brings sweet promises of doom
Sits all alone in a dark four corner room
Why is the reason, this being is there
Why does it beckon one to come near
Its lonely and bored
So it calls out to you
The skull was once mighty and powerful too
Causing great pain on subjects like you
The beast of an age
Caught by a mage
imprisoned in here
no longer to torment the world and spread fear
But just being caught wasn’t enough
It stifled its power but its will, was left uncorrupt
The skull, now a seeker of dreams
Destroyer of love, life, and of schemes #embracingnightmares
God lived on the hill above the rock-garden and there was a forbidden cart up there. At sunset he spread out like a mist over the house and the field. He could make himself quite small and creep in everywhere in order to see what one was doing and sometimes he was only a great big eye. Moreover he looked just like Grandfather.
We raised our voices in the wilderness and were continually disobedient because God so likes to forgive sinners. God forbade us to gather manna under the laburnum tree but we did all the same. Then he sent worms up from the earth to eat up the manna. But we went on being disobedient and we still raised our voices.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
it is a zentangle that I worked very hard on while on a car ride with my grandma papa and my mother in the grocery store in a building and in the car. those spikes are the sun and so is that arch. it is supposed to be a sunset. the humps are the ground /hills. thank you for your views, likes, and followers! thank you for your support!!!
Grandfather was a clergyman and used to preach to the King. Once, before his children and his children's children and his children's children's children covered the face of the earth, Grandfather came to a long field which was surrounded by forests and hills so that it looked like Paradise. At one end it opened out into a bay for his descendants to bathe in.
Then Grandfather thought, here will I dwell and multiply, for verily this is the Land of Canaan.
Then Grandfather and Grandmother built a big two-storey house with a sloping roof and lots of rooms and steps and terraces and a huge veranda and placed plain wooden furniture everywhere inside and outside the house and when it was ready Grandfather began to plant things until the field became a Garden of Eden where he walked around in his big black beard. All he had to do was to point at a plant and it was blessed and grew until it groaned under its own weight.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
This is the largest canvas thus far for me. In progress!! Multiple projects are in sway with this baby of mine. Feel free to check the link for updates on all the moving parts, including video and still shots with hidden treasures added in between (little surprise pop-ups of newness) along the way. https://photos.app.goo.gl/eNiH1mwVbFHaAyAZ9
Here's some music that inspires me, along with links to listen live or on replay.
Phenomenal! - DJ OTB for your creative journey. I love getting lost in the music while I dig deep to paint or create my soul expression. Much gratitude to all those out there who inspire me every day.
https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/
https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/a-journey-in-house-afro-melodic-progressive-chill-13072024/
https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/a-journey-in-house-afro-melodic-progressive-vibes-13072024/
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.
