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“A man who distracts himself with pleasure is a man without purpose.”

I wanted to draw Ash but without his bat features. Ash takes on bat like features in his orignal concept. I will be keeping those features, because I like how it looks. Every color I used in this picture was used for a reason. I had to do some research, so the colors would reflect is personality and his role he plays within the world in which I created him in. Colors with purpose: -Purple -Green -Red -Orange

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You know you can always count on me, friend Like no one else, I've gotten used to the coldness of the stone So I can be with you often Silver rain will wash away the tears of the Dread Sky I will rise with the sun… I will rise with the sun… - Valyrym.  Referring to the story "The Dragon In The Dungeon" Some say I'm hitting the point. So I strike again. When the Writer dies, the World creates a seemingly imperceptible void, a void waiting to be filled, greedily begging others for revelation.  For the next One to take its place in this great spiral. Light. Narrow tunnel. Echoes. Arise. Rest in Peace Coyote - Of The Wilds was a talented writer, author of many fantastic stories which he never managed to finish. He was able to convey true, deep emotion through words, through many unfinished stories. Now, through the ending of the Story. These stories have contributed a lot to my life in 2020, as I wrote about in “Split Of… Personality”. Like for many others, he inspired me to create. I wrote “Split Of Fate”, deleted it, now I'm bringing it back to life, but I also have other plans - regarding the stories of Of The Wilds… but more on that later… This was difficult to draw. Difficult without getting eyes wet. Just a quick doodle… Well, if I were nearby, I would place an apple on his grave. 

Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) “I get up at about eight, do physical exercises, then work without a break from nine till one,” Stravinsky told an interviewer in 1924. Generally, three hours of composition were the most he could manage in a day, although he would do less demanding tasks—writing letters, copying scores, practicing the piano—in the afternoon. Unless he was touring, Stravinsky worked on his compositions daily, with or without inspiration, he said. He required solitude for the task, and always closed the windows of his studio before he began: “I have never been able to compose unless sure that no one could hear me.” If he felt blocked, the composer might execute a brief headstand, which, he said, “rests the head and clears the brain.” - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey

Sigmund Freud (1856–1939) “I cannot imagine life without work as really comfortable,” Freud wrote to a friend in 1910. With his wife, Martha, to efficiently manage the household—she laid out Freud’s clothes, chose his handkerchiefs, and even put toothpaste on his toothbrush—the founder of psychoanalysis was able to maintain a single-minded devotion to his work throughout his long career. Freud’s long workdays were mitigated by two luxuries. First, there were his beloved cigars, which he smoked continually, going through as many as twenty a day from his mid-twenties until near the end of his life, despite several warnings from doctors and the increasingly dire health problems that dogged him throughout his later years. (When his seventeen-year-old nephew once refused a cigarette, Freud told him, From Daily rituals by Mason Currey #dailyrituals #inktober #sigmundFreud @masoncurrey

Attempt without reference. Not super happy with result

Tao Te Ching “A great nation is like a great man: When he makes a mistake, he realizes it. Having realized it, he admits it. Having admitted it, he corrects it. He considers those who point out his faults as his most benevolent teachers. He thinks of his enemy as the shadow that he himself casts.” ~~~~~~~ CIM Chapter 10 88 Children perceive terrifying ghosts and monsters and dragons, and they are terrified. Yet if they ask someone they trust for the real meaning of what they perceive and are willing to let their interpretations go in favor of reality, their fear goes with them. When a child is helped to translate his “ghost” into a curtain, his “monster” into a shadow, and his “dragon” into a dream, he is no longer afraid and laughs happily at his own fear. You, my children, are afraid of your brothers and of your Father and of yourselves. But you are merely deceived in them. Chapter 12 35 It is through these strange and shadowy figures that the insane relate to their insane world. For they see only those who remind them of these images, and it is to them that they relate. Thus do they communicate with those who are not there, and it is they who answer them, and no one hears their answer save him who called upon them, and he alone believes they answered him. Projection makes perception, and you cannot see beyond it. Again and again have men attacked each other because they saw in them a shadow figure in their own private world. And thus it is that you must attack yourself first, for what you attack is not in others. Its only reality is in your own mind, and by attacking others, you are literally attacking what is not there. 36 The delusional can be very destructive, for they do not recognize that they have condemned themselves. They do not wish to die, yet they will not let condemnation go. And so they separate into their private worlds, where everything is disordered and where what is within appears to be without. Yet what is within they do not see, for the reality of their brothers they cannot see. 41 Vision depends on light, and you cannot see in darkness. Yet in the darkness in the private world of sleep, you see in dreams, although your eyes are closed. And it is here that what you see you made. But let the darkness go, and all you made you will no longer see, for sight of it depends upon denying vision. Yet from denying vision, it does not follow that you cannot see. But this is what denial does, for by it you accept insanity, believing you can make a private world and rule your own perceptions. Yet for this, light must be excluded. Dreams disappear when light has come and you can see.

This is a little Sketch Test I've just done. I'm trying to improve how to shade color digitally without creating a huge mess, like on my "Birb" sketch. I getting there. God bless yall's day!

Digital Art by Tran Hoai Truong ©️Email tranhoaitruong@artlover.com. Do not arbitrarily post without my permission. ©️Copyright all rights reserved by Tran Hoai Truong 2019.

Digital Artwork by Tran Hoai Truong ©️Email tranhoaitruong@artlover.com. ⚠️ Do not arbitrarily post without my permission. ©️Copyright all rights reserved by Tran Hoai Truong 2019. Do not repost!!!

An exercise in playing with gouache paint without a clear destination.

“Claire!” Elle woke up with her daughter’s name on her lips. Startled, she sat up and looked around the living room with her heart still beating loudly in her chest. A dream, she realized dazedly. Slowly, she crossed the way to the back door. With unseeing eyes she gazed out into the garden. She remembered waking up in the hospital six years ago and seeing her husband sitting next to her. She remembered how he took her hand into his and looked at her with eyes full of despair. He told her that the doctor thought Claire might not survive. That she might die before she was even born, die before she had a chance to look into her mum’s eyes, feel a kiss on her forehead, clench her little fist around her dad’s finger, hear them speaking to her without a belly barrier between them… It was a silent, terrible death. It was the death of someone so precious, so innocent, so tiny… Elle took a shuddering breath.

I wasn't a big fan of this piece, but my parents really enjoyed it. It's something that they can enjoy without having to like the place where it came from. It's sort of like a still life.

There is no october without ghosts and spooky stuff

Rad experience joining a local drawing group for the first time yesterday although I didn't realise how inconvenient my backpack was going to be, it made me slow to set up / pack up and a few of us had to organise a locker at the gallery as we didn't know backpacks weren't allowed so I spent most of today sewing a bag/sketchbook cover which fits an A4 sketchbook, pencils, id and phone and also has some backing in it so I can easily sketch on my lap without dropping my stuff all over the place. I'm going to do a bit more work on my weird comic book page tonight but in the mean time this is my sea serpent digitally coloured, he lives at Apollo Bay and likes to sleep camouflaged amongst the lifesaver rings.

I don't know what I would do without drawing as an outlet.

A reminder to myself: On rough days when I feel lost, rudderless, overwhelmed or without direction, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through tough times is 100% so far. And that’s pretty darn good in the scheme of things.

(Red biro on a 89mm x 139mm postcard) When technology becomes so intrusive on our daily lives that we feel we simply can't live without it, then perhaps the one-eyed man is truly king.

Keeping it surrealistically real with more narwhals!

This week’s been an interesting one for socialising in my world, no denying it. If I’m not getting acquainted with new folks at work or at my art clubs, it’s reconnecting with people I haven’t seen in 20+ years… certainly informed today’s piece, without a doubt!

Once the curve flattens and we can all go about our usual businesses without potentially killing one another, let’s not forget all the good habits and so on we’ve picked up from staying the feck at home! Some sort of a summer will come, rest assured.

New art supplies! Of course, I don’t need an excuse to get to work but if I had to pick a favourite then that’s my one, without a doubt.

"Lang may yer lum reek (a Hogmanay greeting, implying "May you never be without fuel for your fire!", but more literally translates to "Long may your chimney smoke!")" All this I corrupted and used to inspire me here.

Mixed media. Acrylic, pencil, digital. This is a piece from the book “Mail Me Art - Medium Without A Message” by @littlechimpsociety. I think it was the second call for entries/book.There are now 4 books filled with awesome art drawn and painted on outsides of envelopes and packages by artists all over the world who then mailed them to the UK totally exposed to the postal service. The original was all analog. I brought this into Procreate and reworked it. I may do more when I get a chance but I’m pretty satisfied with it now.

Tumbleweeds and Trees without leaves

A random sketch that became a drawing practice. Even tried to sketch the outlines of some coat. What happens when one draws without a proper plan or skeleton, ending up with a "lifelike perspective".

I don't know how the movie ends; I won't see it, considering my country, but all my headcanons are sequels to the movie. I have no idea what happens to Tommy, but I hope my imagination is strong enough to figure out how to save him without breaking canon. Otherwise, this is all AU. The OC's name is Caroline Shelton. She belongs to the middle-upper class; her father is quite wealthy, so she knew no hardship much. But she is eccentric and zealously strives for knowledge, has many hobbies and is skilled in many things because of her pursuits. Basically, all she cared about in life was intellectual development. She had only one friend who could stand her personality and temper, James Holloway. Some time later, he disappeared, and Caroline received his bloodstained watch from an anonymous sender with no explanation, only the mailing address from which the anonymous sent the package. Caroline couldn't think of anything better than to dress up as a man and travel to the town the package came from, introducing herself as James Holloway and gaining fame with her skills. She hopes that if the anonymous hears about an albino man named James Holloway in the town where they might live, they'll contact her again when they hear about her. Her logic is this: this person sent a package containing something important to Jim to her, so they must know something about Jim, her, and their friendship, and if they hear Jim's name used by an albino, they'll understand everything. So she sets out on a dangerous journey, making herself a kind of beacon/signal for the anonymous sender to find them and through them to find Jim or learn what happened to him.

In the end I began to feel weak at the knees and then I knew that soon it would be too late, in a few seconds it would be too late, so I let it fall into the gutter and began rolling very quickly and without looking up. I kept my nose just above the top of the stone so that the room I had hidden us in would be as tiny as possible and I heard very clearly how all the cars stopped and were angry but I drew a line between them and me and just went on rolling and rolling. You can close your mind to things if something is important enough. It works very well. You make yourself very small, shut your eyes tight and say a big word over and over again until you're safe. - Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson #dailydrawing #tovejansson