wa

Originally inspired by the occult fiction of the seventies, this began life as a cover concept for a commercial horror anthology. It later transitioned away and became a personal project, granting me more freedom with its content, and a return to one of my favourite themes – the offsetting of monstrosity with beauty.⁣

I'm new here and wanted to give my current best.

Rendition of Michelangelo pre-sculpture sketch work two men fighting 4 ft by 3 ft. Corinthian column added original 3 ft by 2 ft. Done on wall in home with 14 number 2 School pencils over a 2-week..

The Palace of Fine Arts. I finally succeeded in making the background feel far away.

Mixed the watercolor painting and doodles on my iPad :)

These are 5 out of 12 images I did while processing the necessity of healing from life lessons. Heartbreak is prevalent throughout all the levels of tragedies in our lives. At times, the mourning period feels forced-- I never really want my wounds to heal because I feel they're the last of the love I carried for that "thing". The process feels like gold pouring into my gapping heart and I can only scream as it sears through my veins. It hurts to heal. It hurts that it has to happen.

14x17" ink, watercolor and spraypaint on paper

This was Emma Thompson in one of my favourite films, Stranger Than Fiction - she is brilliant! I used just colouring pencils in this one to try out a soft, harmonious look, on the background of blue A4 card. I quite like the relationship between the foreground and background in this piece; had the background been white, I don't think it would have worked as well.

Watercolors from my mini moleskine

This is another way of working that I really like. Fine liners and chalk (colour) pencils were predominantly used, with a quick smothering of acrylics for her scarf and coarse posca pen marks for the jumper :). About the subject, Handmaid's Tale was one of those rare books that I read more than once growing up and it stayed with me, hence why I decided to draw Margaret Atwood (not seen the series yet though but I hear good things!). I accidentally had her hand cut out while penning the figure - still working on my scale and composition!

I feel lop eared dogs are so cute these days. And I realized my dog got a lot of ribbons from his groomer (She give my dog a lovely ribbon every time we go and I really like it so keep them). Then, I drew this. I want one more dog or a cat...

I have a Walking Dead AU with Mario characters thrown into in, these bois are my favourites so yh

PSA. Remember kids! Nice smile is not the same as a nice person! Transmundane Tuesday prompt from @carsonellis. Has a nice smile, has a snail shell and wearing a helmet. Or here , wearing a snail shell as a helmet.

So I'm a little behind the curve, but here's my day 1 for Inktober. This was my first time using my fountain pen for drawing, so I can't complain too much. There's definitely some room to grow. Lined with a TWSBI Eco: fine nib with Organics Studio Walden ink on Tomoe River paper. I'm a sucker for sheen, what can I say. The sad attempt at shading was done with a wet paper towel, so I'm guessing I could try upgrading my technique there ;D

Your Imagination can take you wherever you want

The full moon sent you a package and warned you not to open it.

It was absolutely necessary that I sit still and paint today and here are the unfinished results so far.

On occasions one likes to walk down the road with a geetar on ones back and drum stix in ones hand!...and then draw pictures of the aformentioned sequence of events! wowza! some folk think I'm on a protest march!...musak'weirdo'isms

I’m new to acrylic painting and this was one I did for a college art class.

Watercolor, Ink, Watercolor pencil, Colored pencil, marker, and white pen

I think It's none other than my heart that covers one's eyes. To see, hear, think, and speak as the mind pleases. Mistakes can happen, and some people focus only on themselves and say things they shouldn't say to someone. When someone doesn't live blind anymore and one day can see the real world with one's own eyes, will feel deceived and feel anger and futility etc. I wanted to say that if look at the world with the eyes of heart, Can't see the reality.

Hello, this is me in sunglasses. My name is Tricia (they/them) and I live on the east-coast of US in Maine (which is up by Canada). I look forward to the cooler weather. My goal is to draw more insects and moons in the future. Hope you have a great day~

Watercolor from photo.

My new original character, Elena, Queen of the oceans. I loved working on her and this color palette is my favorite! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TUgrM8uaio

36 Days of the Via Francigena pilgrim walk recorded in sketch form, 1000 miles of drawing.

36 Days of the Via Francigena pilgrim walk recorded in sketch form

I have many odd objects in my house, but I think the oddest is the 3D printed model of my teeth (with my braces on them). Long story short, these had to be made when I got my retainers, but I was lucky enough to be able to take them and my braces home. (Don't worry, I thoroughly disinfected and cleaned the braces before gluing them on.) I genuinely forgot I had this, so finding them kind of startled me at first.

Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.