free spots only sixteen people that comment who wants it for boys and girls UmU i got this from google but who wants this for a spot UnU ill do more of these to :3 so dont worry! but im still working on the stories -w-
Ok made the 2nd Mystery of the Mysteries of Light: The Wedding of Cana. Also an important revelation and the prime miracle that started Jesus' "hour". I definately spent much more time on the Baptism because of it's important icon significance but I found some good lil inspiration for this too, a bit more simple but nice. ^_^ Oh and if you don't know the story: John Chapter 2 1 And the third day, there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee: and the mother of Jesus was there. 2 And Jesus also was invited, and his disciples, to the marriage. 3 And the wine failing, the mother of Jesus saith to him: They have no wine. 4 And Jesus saith to her: Woman, what is that to me and to thee? my hour is not yet come. 5 His mother saith to the waiters: Whatsoever he shall say to you, do ye. 6 Now there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three measures apiece. 7 Jesus saith to them: Fill the waterpots with water. And they filled them up to the brim. 8 And Jesus saith to them: Draw out now, and carry to the chief steward of the feast. And they carried it. 9 And when the chief steward had tasted the water made wine, and knew not whence it was, but the waiters knew who had drawn the water; the chief steward calleth the bridegroom, 10 And saith to him: Every man at first setteth forth good wine, and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse. But thou hast kept the good wine until now. 11 This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee; and manifested his glory, and his disciples believed in him
In our little potted gardens, sometimes our plants thrive, and sometimes they don't. But what remains constant are the pots still being a pot. This reminds me of the Bible verse, which served as the inspiration for this week's post: -Isaiah 40:8 NIV- The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever. //There are 6 Sundays leading up to Good Friday. In observation of Lent, I will be posting 6 works inspired by the theme. This is for the 5th Sunday of Lent.
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.
A male water spirit. captures souls of his victims in pots beneath the water
Doodling my faces, this time on a piece of wood from a pallet. Re-cycling! Used watercolors and colored pencils, Carved out some spots to add dimension.