This started off as a black ink drawing, but after scanning into my computer, I played around in Pixelmator to add the background and some effects to achieve the final result. This was going to be my first attempt at either Inktober ot Artober. Many thanks for looking !
Aaaand forgot to post yesterday again. Sorry. Zmey can't talk, which is one of the reasons he took Anka as an apprentice and he is teaching her sign language.
(It's not an easy feat. He was hoping she could read to help, but let's say it's not the case either)
He is not medically mute, he could make sound if he need to.
It's just it's highly not recommended for him to open his mouth, thank to a little magical mishap when he met Baba Yaga for the first time.
She still maintain it was well earned.
So does he.
(Little note: He is saying "flame" in french sign language)
(Look, I couldn't find reference for russian sign language, and I'm not sure there was a sign language in their russian themed mythical medieval fantastical yolo universe)
New sketchbook time again? That it is. Credit to one of my workmates for inspiring the title here, hehehehe. It's been a busy few days here at Bleu HQ... '^^ :-)
From our little part of the world to yours, warmest winter wishes! This piece was created 'Just For Fun' with Colored Pencils. It was so relaxing and enjoyable to doodle one house each evening!
A bit of a departure from my usual style. I wanted to try something a bit messy, fast, and loose. The scene is an ancient woodland in Pembrokeshire called Tŷ Canol, an atmospheric place and full of inspiration for artworks. Pen and watercolour in Seawhite sketchbook.
Words of wisdom that a friend came out with during a Lord Of The Rings Extended Editions film night over the weekend jumpstarted my creative juices this time around. :-)
...supported by some bioluminescent particles. I drew the glowy effect with a merchandise neon orange pastel pencil that I probably stole somewhere. The rest is a simple black fineliner on drawing paper.
Patron Saint of Lost Keys and Small Things.
Reminded me of this poem by Elizabeth Bishop.
One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
