Everyone thinks that they love will have a happy ending, but those are the lucky ones. What about those who have their heart played just to get the pleasure fulfilled. What happens to those who kept promises but never fulfilled them, just forgot them like they meant nothing, no memories of them were made, it had nothing to do with them. This picture that I developed at this stage of a person's life shows that they don't ask for nothing beside a happy ending, sitting together and enjoying each other's company. What was the need of stealing someone's heart, use them for your own desires and then just throw it away? What did they get at the end? It was easy for them to make promises, gaining their trust, building hopes but harder for them to prove it. Day by day the pain kills them inside but to the world they are nothing more but alive and energetic, but who knows what’s happening from the inside, when they are just trying to live each day until death comes. At this moment of time no one can heal the cuts, them deceitful memories by the one who once said they will never hurt you or leave you. But I guess one day everyone does leave you, maybe today or tomorrow. She was told to forget him because he was nothing beside a memory. He wasn’t worth it. He walked away from her, but maybe she was too caught in his memories.
Play : Intuitive work, where patterns balloon and swirl and twist and turn to create a new play field for our three.
Micron Pens on Cartridge Paper
8.27"W by 11.7"H
“The politics of the world frustrate me. I control my frustration when I write, but it explodes when I perform.”
A quote from a Benjamin Zephaniah documentary I caught not long ago on BBC iPlayer’s been resonating with me as of late. Granted, I tend to keep politics light here (if anything) but I stand by what I’ve just said regardless.
"When the teachers asked me to play something, I would pretend that I was reading it and play from memory. I didn't fool them, but I didn't care."
- Vangelis (1943 - 2022).
Of all the dreams I’ve had in my life, the one I had back in July of 2007 as a 14 year old seems to have stuck somewhere in my memory the longest. It involved some airy-fairy death and rebirth of the world and it all got very 2001-sy real quick.
Here’s a retelling of that story...ish.
Long story short I needed a title, and prior to that my phone opted to have some sort of techno-stroke earlier in the day, and I took inspiration from this. So, yeah...
"If Madonna's allowed to reinvent herself every 15 minutes, I figure I should be good for a change at least once every 20 years." - “Weird Al” Yankovic.
Page one of my first ever comic! And my first ever horse.
It's called "I am a horse."
A little explanation: in my native language, there's a separate word for gray hair. So I was playing with words a little here, hinting at his morality and also his hair color (she said he is "grey" rather than "gray-haired").
This is directly related to my fanfic "One last time."
I stared and stared at her until I had stared her into little pieces and I thought, you're big and scraggy like a carthorse and nobody can hunt for you in the grass and you couldn't hide anywhere because you can be seen the whole time and you can't surprise anybody and make them feel good! You have completely spoilt our games for no reason because you can't play games yourself! O alas and alack! No one wants your presents. He doesn't want them! You're nobody's surprise, and you can't understand because you're not an artist! And so I went a little closer and humiliated her by saying the most terrible thing of all : amateur! You're an amateur! You're not a real artist!
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
Behind the Russian Church there is an abyss.
The moss and the rubbish are slippery and jagged old tins glitter at the bottom. For hundreds of years they have piled up higher and higher against a long dark-red house without windows. The red house crawls round the rock and it is very significant that it has no windows. Behind the house is the harbour, a silent harbour with no boats in it. The little wooden door in the rock below the church is always locked.
Hold your breath when you run past it, I told Poyu. Otherwise Putrefaction will come out and catch you. Poyu always has a cold. He can play the piano and holds his hands in front of him as if he were afraid of being attacked or was apologizing to someone. I always scare him and he follows me because he wants to be scared.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
For the 30th and final day of Junefairytale, today is Pinocchio's turn.
For this day, I decided to make it so that one day at school there will be a play based on the story of Pinocchio. They chose Tonoie to play the main character, but he doesn't like it, while Tori laughs at him. Thank you all for enjoying these drawings. I hope you liked them
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For the 9th of May, today is all about dreams.
For this day, I decided to make Scorpi, who is sleeping in his room while dreaming that he's playing with a dolphin mixamal
