'in my culture, we believe that everyone becomes a god when we die, but we call them spirits. We plant a tree for them, and it is their new home, from which they commune with us . Spirits guide and protect us, '
Colored pencil drawing of pomegranates "in progress." Prismacolor and Verithin pencils with some fine lines done with Tombow Irojiten pencils. I like the harder colored pencils for fine detail, but the blending of high wax and oil pencils can't be beat for blending.
That time when Samwell Tarly tasked himself to save Ser Jorah Mormont from greyscale. It was not an easy task since it requires the removal of one scale at a time! Also every time the scale was removed, the skin oozes, so yeah, not a very pleasant sight! In the beginning, it would make Sam woozy or dizzy, but he was able to complete the task!
Spirals added for embellishment of course! This was oddly chosen for adobeawards stories feature. It was pretty cool that they animated the piece tho! *I have already completed the entire Inktober- you can check it out on my IG account: @dittofunkysketch123 :D
It's easy to forget that cats are actually little ghouls...they want to hunt and kill stuff almost as much as they want to cuddle up with you when it's cold (yes, they are also heat vampires). But they are also complex and amazing little fur-suited people.
Jane Austen (1775–1817)
Austen never lived alone and had little expectation of solitude in her daily life. Her final home, a cottage in the village of Chawton, England, was no exception: she lived there with her mother, her sister, a close friend, and three servants, and there was a steady stream of visitors, often unannounced.
...
Austen wrote in the family sitting room, “subject to all kinds of casual interruptions,” her nephew recalled. She was careful that her occupation should not be suspected by servants, or visitors, or any persons beyond her own family party. She wrote upon small sheets of paper which could easily be put away, or covered with a piece of blotting paper. There was, between the front door and the offices, a swing door which creaked when it was opened; but she objected to having this little inconvenience remedied, because it gave her notice when anyone was coming.
“Composition seems to me impossible with a head full of joints of mutton & doses of rhubarb.”
From Daily rituals by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #janeAusten @masoncurrey
This drawing was a bit difficult to finish because my kitty was determined to lay his head on anything that was remotely stealing attention away from him. Luckily I finished it when he wasn't looking. (= ♡ ฅ(=ʘⰙʘ=)
Things have been so busy of late and my output has greatly reduced. However, I have returned to oil painting. I revisited this piece I started last year and put in a few more hours to finish it. The scene was from a few summers ago when I visited Pen Arthur forest for the first time. The piece takes me right back to that day when the late summer afternoon sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy.
