moment

Pencil on paper. My sister-in-law absolutely enamoured with her month-old nephew

Was having a WTF moment and I watched too much Courage The Cowardly Dog. I just wanted a reason to make word bubbles.

A scene from Hazbin Hotel where Alastor has a breakdown. I wanted to recreate the moment using my own art style. I think it came out rather well.

Suddenly the light goes out and staying in the dark is a test of resistance, but when everything seems lost, it turns on again, so simply: sometimes a single attempt isn't enough, there are many moments to spend without light, but you don't have to be afraid of it, because sooner or later we will succeed in the undertaking and it will make you smile as the thing that seemed so difficult came spontaneously, it was enough not to force the process. I hate the darkness because it shows me a version of myself that I would never want to meet, yet if I accept that the punches of life in some periods are stronger than others, sometimes leaving bruises and burns, but that life itself has granted me caresses like this sweets that I would not have appreciated without going through pain, then everything around me will seem golden. I can only appreciate the hatred and wonder of it. I can feel those caresses, I can savor them with the same intensity with which I feel the pain of the punches, because ultimately they give so much: the strength to take another step, to not give up right now, right now that I am so close to feeling them in my heart those precious caresses.

This is an oil painting of an African American couple. They’re sharing an intimate moment with each other. Some maybe would say that they’re the epitome of “Black Love”. His skin is dark tones as compared to her lighter shade. The two skin tones wrapped together in sheets gives life to what I call “The Happy Couple”.

Luminary Festival - Auren Farkis (Digital Portrait I did as a colour study) Crisp reverberating strings danced through the evening. Notes twisted and echoed up through the emerald, velvet tiers of Ridgedow Gardens. Dusk’s veil had long since darkened to a diamond-encrusted black, and Clarglow was alive with activity. Footpaths were choked with revellers that formed a river of light that coursed and pulsed through the park. Will-o-whisp spots of light also glowed among the neatly trimmed hedgerows and statues. Their magic-addled voices rose up, joining in with the music of the Luminary Festival. A young man, no more than a quarter of a century old, glowed brightest of all. A soft orange radiated from his eyes, and his veins pulsed a brilliant red. He was dripping in gold and gems. Over an outfit that somehow managed to be heavily layered and revealing at the same time, he wore a sheer cape, which was heavily embroidered with blood-red crystals that refracted his own light around him in dazzling, concentrated rays. It was such a dangerous colour of magic, but his expression was soft and dreamy. Excited laughter rose up as a clustered group shot metallic confetti skyward. Gold flake drifted down and settled into his silver hair, cheeks, and shoulders. No doubt he would discover the remnants of this festival in his home weeks from now. He increased his pace, stepping off the cobbled path to overtake the group, when one of their number split from the group. The coils of her dark hair were so saturated with gold that she looked like she belonged on a pedestal next to the other statues. She intercepted him, matching his pace. She snaked a long, slender arm around his waist and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his neck, leaving a wake of golden kisses up to his earlobe, where she leaned closer to whisper. — “Aurie, Luv, I know that look. Don’t tell me you’re headed home. The eve has only just begun. “ Her glowing eyes Locked with Auren’s, her grip tightening, slowing the both of them to a stop, causing a temporary blockage in the flow of people. “Overdid myself Mel.. you’ll have to –” –” Come with us to the reflecting pool.” She cooed, meeting his lips in an off-center kiss, smearing his inky wine lipstick. Momentarily, he allowed himself to relax. He considered saying yes. His heart pounding, he dipped his friend backwards gracefully, resenting that he had to leave. An itch in his left arm reminded his fuzzy brain that he was in danger. Gasping softly, he gently lifted Mella upright and spun her out towards her friends, who were growing impatient. He couldn’t make out their faces in the fuzz of the evening. “I can’t, I’m sorry Mel! We’ll talk later.” Before she could protest, he danced, spinning forward in a brilliant display of speed that ended in a stumble as he met a set of steep steps that coiled sharply upwards out of the park and onto the pink brick streets overlooking Ridgedow Gardens. The glazed windows facing the street were empty and blank… their occupants elsewhere, enjoying the festival. The empty buildings were like faces, judging him for his lack of zeal. Auren wound his way through streets and side streets, his pace increasing as he grew more and more alone. Finally, he was climbing a set of steps to his own front door. Smirking at the sight of it he reached down into the front of the bodice that held together the layers of his outfit pulling free a loop of keys that were on a long chain looped around his neck. Aligning it to the keyhole he struggled with the lock, cursing softly under his breath as it initially failed to cooperate with him. In the quiet black of his foyer, he latched the door behind him and stumbled forward, tearing at the ribbon that held the gleaming cape that draped from his bare shoulders. He let it drop on a black lacquered table. He reached up to unclasp an elaborate choker and tore his single, crimson glove down from his elbow. He pressed a gilded fingernail against a band of red ink encroached upon by a spreading corruption. Marginally extending beyond the band were sinews of mismatched muscle and skin; even his hair had begun to glow red. Pulse rising, he wrenched his rings from his fingers, casting them into the ever-darkening room. Precious jewellery piled under him until only the dimmest glow from his own veins remained.. Slumping onto the steps, he tightened his grip on his arm and twisted it ninety degrees. A sharp click of crystal against porcelain met his ears. The room was enveloped in black as his final stone slid away from his arm, rendering the prosthesis inert. He slid to his side, the sounds of the party below overtaken by his own gasping breaths, panic refusing to subside alongside his magic.

sometimes my head doesn't work right and art doesn't look like art. sometimes i like to simply draw and doodle and not have a plan nor a color scheme. this is an example of that type of in-the-moment artwork sketch in my sketchbook. it includes marker and ink drawings, stickers, and random pieces of scrapbooking materials

I got inspiration from my first gouache painting. After a few minutes of research on Pinterest, I got the Eureka Moment! "Hmm... Maybe I should draw the twisted tree from my painting, which will be full of stars on its branch?" And here it is - the final look. I like it!

Do you want to keep a moment or memories of your loved ones? Contact us! Czy chcesz zatrzymać chwilę, lub wspomnienia swoich najblizszych? Skontaktuj się z nami!

Getting a little more momentum in my will to draw again….

I just bought Iphone 12 Pro Max today I took this amazing moment. Contact the right holder: My name: Le Quoc Nhat Email: taoocchonhatvutruday@yahoo.com Phone number: 0961819303 Email address: California Highway Patrol, 777 W Washington Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90015, United States Of America. Photo taken by photographer Le Quoc Nhat, property of Le Quoc Nhat COPYRIGHT ON TONS OF MATERIALS DO NOT COPY AND UPLOAD ANYWHERE!

I wanted to take snapshots of my day at the beach so I came up with the idea of doing story boards, little snippets of moments. Felt less pressure for perfection and created an atmosphere still.

I used to sketch in my car much more often. I'd go downtown and quick sketch people, scenes--whatever moved the spirit. With this sketch, I got the idea for a series...a what if ordinary moments in life were done in Picasso fashion. In this case, it was a Dad with his two kids. I never pursued the idea any further than a handful of quick sketches, but I wonder, what if I painted Dad with two kids Picasso style? It's still on my bucket list. What about you? What's on your bucket list regarding art ideas, projects?

Some pose I wanted to try out

A few moments to try out my new brush at Ortega playground after lunch with my son

Daily drawing 635 Princess Leia is captured by Jabba the Hutt, a giant, slug-like alien who's also a kind of gangster lord. Fisher said, "I remember that iron bikini I wore in 'Episode VI,' what supermodels will eventually wear in the seventh ring of Hell." She's also said that her favorite moment in the "Star Wars" films was killing Jabba the Hutt. "I had a lot of fun killing Jabba the Hutt. They asked me on the day if I wanted to have a stunt double kill Jabba. No! That's the best time I ever had as an actor," Fisher told The Guardian. "And the only reason to go into acting is if you can kill a giant monster."

The piece covers the struggle that the LGBTQ+ community had to face over the last few centuries to get to the point where we are today - and although it isn't perfect yet, a lot of progress has been made. The articles in the background all reflect key moments in this progression including Stonewall. The two male peacocks - evident through their colourful feathers - represent the community as it stands today and is a representative of the progress made.

The friendly squish-walrus never means to squish things, but his permanently outstretched arms and difficulty slowing down once he’s gained momentum means that anything in his path is pretty much screwed. Most squish-ees forgive him easily though, because he’s just so darn nice.

This was a practice page. Involving his back story. This is one of those big moments that do a big thing for his character as a whole.

One of more painful moments is when you can see in your dreams someone you loved..and you can feel the permanent distance with this person.

The darkness of the night with very little spaces for the lights. This is one of that moments when you can feel yourself little.

Hands. Due to this Covid-19, we can't shake at this very moment. Let's show them off! :D

"I never quite realized... how beautiful this world is. I'm coming, everyone... I'm coming..." - YoRHa Type A No.2, in her final moments. Character © NieR:Automata Comments, questions, constructive criticism, and anything else are welcomed :D

An abstract watercolor portrait seeking to capture a tender moment. I really enjoyed painting and then photographing this portrait.

It's always fun to come to the Art gallery of the assheads, marginal artists of the World of Fantasy. Today I have seen the picture you are looking at, it made me interesting, as more people worked on it, not considering the picture as a whole, nor the work of its predecessors. Then, out of a large cardboard box, an old man came out and came to me. There were two big holes in the box, so I realized that the guy was looking at me from the box for a while. - Do you like the picture? - he asked. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, staring at me. On the old clothes he wore on himself, there was a stain of color. - I was impressed with - I said cautiously, knowing the unpredictable nature of people who deal with art - Did you do it? His face was stretched into a smile, a few teeth that he had left, flashes from the mouth cavity. - Yes - proudly erect his chicken breast an old man - Inspiration wore me all the time! He looked at me with a look that required my other questions about the image, need to tell any story, to anyone, about his work, was in it taut like a catapult. - What inspired you? - I ask the old man, and he barely welcomed the question and said: - Last week I was visiting my friend Jergon, the King of the Dwarves. (His statement that the mighty King of the Dwarves his friend was so incredible, that it must have been true. Assheads usually have unusual life stories.) "It is well known to you that the dwarves appreciate their privacy, keep their place of residence confidential and may be ruthless if you disturb them. As a friend of Jergon, "the old man says," I have surely passed the territory of the dwarves. As I approached his home, I noticed more and more than the vicinity of his underground apartment - in the old roots - was edited by the gardening techniques of the dwarves. Dwarves worship their king and their nature makes them do something for him every day. For example, to clean the weed and planted rare plants and flowers around his house. Some day they polished the old root under which the King lives. So the environment of his house went out completely artificial, unnatural. The king is angry because he now has no privacy, his home has become like a public park, sweet hide, dear dwarves, was taken away from him. He told me. "Dear friend, if you think it's nice to be a king, you are not right. Everything has its own price." This visit inspired me to paint this work. - I nodding my head as if to understand how much potential was in that situation, so inspiration was a natural consequence. - Art freedom is expressed here - I said to the old man - maybe with the King of the Dwarves, on it, the picture was even more effective. The old asshead looked at me strictly and asked: - Did you see the King of the Dwarves? "I did not even see an ordinary dwarf," I admitted. The old man looked at me for a moment or two with a disappointed look, then he turned and entered the box. I felt a look from the box on my back as I left the gallery.

Pencil Drawing

It is a gold imortalization of a moment in a rest in the grass, and under the branches of a high urapan

I took a few moments out of my day to attempt to use most of the coloring tools in Krita whilst drawing a rough character design.

When I was a teen, my grandfather had alzheimers, a failing heart, and half of one lung. He was covered with scars and sometimes muttered at walls. I was asked to keep an eye on him, briefly, one afternoon, while my grandmother did something else. While I was alone with him, he looked at an empty space right next to me, and whispered: "Mom? Dad? Is that you?" With the exception of getting hit by a car, that was the most terrifying moment of my life.