#I only have the strength for monochrome sketches

[qdkdraws]

"She's gone, Adam" The amount of love I have for @mistystarshine 's "Live Again" is inversely proportional to the amount of fanart I made for it.

It's time to fix it.

[sonyshock]

Tip/advice for drawing fast?

Of course! Let's see:

Practice speed drawing studies until you have the kind of speed you are happy with! It'll help you synthesize shapes and train your hands to do them in as few strokes as possible. It will also help you understand anatomy (for example) well enough that you can simplify it on the spot.

Collect references in advance!!! As in, one day earlier at least, so you can start the day with a general idea of how the picture will look like and without tiring yourself looking for references. Choice fatigue is a thing and finding references will take a lot of it. I use PureRef to collect references for commissions and about any other thing i want to draw or I have ideas for:

Zoom out. In the beginning and at the end of every stage (coloring, render). It'll help you get the areas of the drawing that can be solved with one stroke solved in one stroke, instead of multiple because you chose a small brush.

Use a big brush for a start. It'll force you to not focus on details. Add details gradually with smaller brushes.

Start with rough shapes rather than bit by bit. If you are drawing a character's full body, you should have the general structure in 10 seconds (general structure can look like two balls and a box, depends on what helps you best)

Redraw instead of fix. If you are stuck, it's probably better to redraw a piece of your picture or even the whole thing.

Don't do lineart. Use the sketch and refine it instead. Of course, this might depend on your style, but keep the choice in mind.

If you are going to render, exclude as many 'flat details' as possible. Body patterns, seams, even wrinkles (occasionally) will make the render more complex, when you can add them over the rendered piece afterwards and take less time.

When you start to render, begin with the borders of the figure. It'll help with blocking and by the time it's finished, it'll help you judge just how much you DO want to render

It's generally not got to only draw one thing unless it's very much by choice, but if you draw something similar very often (let's say, a bodyshot looking 3/4) you will get faster at it. Acknowledge your strengths. Even when branching out, you might want to start by diverging just a bit from it rather than a composition you are not familiar with at all

You might want to start pictures in monochrome and with a big brush instead of using base colors. This might or might not help you work faster depending on if you like refining art.

Schedule your art. Specially commissions. Knowing WHAT you will be drawing every day will help you get in the mind space to get it done and in how long you should.

That's what comes to mind! I might have more I'll add later

[monocle-teacup]

Wrote a small fic for my Lotus AU. Mandroid picks up drawing as a hobby because he's bored. Tara decides to give him some drawing supplies to encourage him.

Gift

Due to Stephen’s size, it was impossible for him to sit on any of Tara’s furniture. The two of them worked together to build a chair made of metal and sturdy wood for him to sit on. Her living room had to be rearranged for it to fit, but it was an easy process since due to his strength. The chair was so large she felt like a child when she sat on it which the scientist found amusing. Now a common sight in the house was a human woman, a robotic spider, and a part man part machine monstrosity sitting in the living room.

Lately Tara noticed that Stephen spent his time with a pencil and paper. It was clear he was drawing, but from the glimpses she got it didn’t look like he was making a blueprint. She saw shapes and other things she didn’t have names for. It was great that he found a hobby and she wanted to encourage that. She had no idea when his birthday was and Christmas was months away so she decided to just surprise him one day.

“What is this?” he asked when he noticed the box on his chair.

“It’s for you.” she answered white sitting on the couch.

He stared at her like he couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. “You bought me something?”

“Yes.” she said patiently.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why?”

She resisted the urge to run her hand over her face and sigh. Instead, she gestured to the box. “Open it and you’ll see why.”

He picked up the gift as if it was the most fragile glass. Taking off the lid, his eyes widened in astonishment. “You bought me… drawing supplies?” His voice was full of wonder.

It made her happy to see him so enthusiastic. “You seem to enjoy it so I wanted to get some things for you.”

Despite his face looking like something out of a nightmare, his expression was soft. “This is very thoughtful of you.” He focused on her and smiled. “Thank you, Tara.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you don’t mind that I just got you different types of pencils and some pens.”

“It’s perfect for my needs. I especially appreciate the larger sketch book.”

“If you’re okay with it, I’d love to see some of your work.”

He was hesitant for a moment before he went over to a shelf. “I’ve only done this so far.” He handed her a sheet of paper that had a monochrome cat on it.

“Wow, Stephen!” she breathed. “This looks so realistic.”

His face lit up at her praise. “I modeled most of my machines after things found in nature so I frequently studied animals.”

“This cat was special to you, wasn’t it?”

His mood turned pensive. “She was a stray that found her way into my lab shortly after I gained my first Cybertronian arm. She was very strong willed and refused to leave even after I tried forcing her.” He grinned. “The Arachnamechs were terrified of her. Ironically, she came to think of Arachnamech as her name but I shortened it to Arachna. I found out Arachna was female when she gave birth on my workbench.”

Tara laughed, causing him to glare at her for interrupting. “I’m sorry. It’s just a funny image to think about.”

He ignored her. “She had five kittens. The Arachnamechs didn’t dare go near them.” He chuckled. “My lab certainly became more lively after that.”

She was almost afraid to voice her next thought. “What happened to them?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure. I know they managed to escape my lab being destroyed. My hope is that they all found good homes.”

She got up to pat him on his organic hand, noting his bewildered expression at her action. “I’m sure they’re fine. Cats are pretty resourceful.”

He rolled his eyes when she smirked. “Now what?”

“I’m having fun thinking about you fussing over a cat.”

“Because I don’t seem the type?” he asked in annoyance.

“No, because I think it’s adorable. I’ve seen how protective you got over the Arachnamechs. You probably spoiled Arachna.”

He crossed his arms and huffed. “She deserved nothing less.”

[tigger8900]

Long Way Down: The Graphic Novel, by Jason Reynolds

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

When 15-year-old Will's older brother Shawn is shot dead, he knows what he has to do. Rule #3: if someone you love gets killed, find the person who killed them and kill them. And that person was Riggs. Had to be. Armed with Shawn's handgun, Will sets out to get revenge. But it's a long way down from his apartment on the 8th floor, and there's no telling who he might run into.

This is the first graphic novel adaptation I've ever read that I've actually liked. I don't know if it's because it's also the only time I haven't read the original novel(I've heard of it and I know what it's about, but I've never read it) or if it really is just that good, but I was blown away by the quality. In my mind, there's three things that go into a good graphic novel adaptation: the art, whether or not it made use of the strengths of the visual medium, and faithfulness to the original.

Starting with the art, this book was drawn and painted in a beautiful watercolor style by Danica Novgorodoff. The softness of the art was a perfect contrast to the difficult subject matter, providing a cushion for the reader. When moments became sharper the art changed to reflect that, with some parts shown in stark silhouette or drawn as black-and-white sketches. I have nothing but compliments about the art, and I'm glad they didn't choose to go with a more traditional comics-inspired style, because I believe that would have cheapened the violence.

This book also made excellent use of the visual medium to enhance Reynolds's verse. When Will describes the territories in his neighborhood, the thoughts are scattered over a map taking up an entire two-page spread. Lingering effects reach from one panel into another, and silent panels provide a moment for the reader to stop alongside the characters and reflect. Monochrome vs full color is also used to great effect, signifying what's past and present, even as the time periods blur together in the same image.

I can't speak to the faithfulness of the adaptation, because as I said I haven't read the original novel. I did peek at the preview on Amazon, and recognized much of the text. From what I can tell, my conclusion is that this adaptation is different — particularly, the addition of some dialogue to the graphic novel version — but not necessarily unfaithful. I'll leave it to others who have read both to judge for certain, though!

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Eivor x Fem!Reader - Ink Me Up

Oh, what to do when the Norwegian woman tattooing your thigh is insanely attractive, clearly gay, with a criminally good bedside manner?

Warning: about tattooing and obviously needles.

Word count: 4363

Can be found on AO3 here.

Heavily inspired by this post here. The tattoo itself is purely self-indulgent. Eivor is stupidly attractive and it's not fair. (Y/N) replacer safe.

After months of saving and deliberation, the time had come. For the longest time you had dreamed of getting something big, bold and beautiful permanently inked into your skin. Something meaningful. And you wanted someone talented to tattoo it.

Thus, you found yourself scouring the web for reputable tattoo shops, hours upon hours poured into searching artists’ portfolios, hoping that someone was skilled enough at black-and-grey realism within a relatively close radius. If you were going to pay a hefty sum for a tattoo, you wanted it to be perfect. Your desktop was flooded with reference images of sword lilies – the subject of your desired ink – and about a dozen different parlours, tabs whittling down one by one during your search.

The final tab was the website for a slightly pricier shop, but one of the artist’s Instagrams utterly captivated you. Their artwork was extraordinary, the details in their pieces stunning and intricate; you decided investing a little extra cash would be worth it. Eivor Varinsdóttir, handle @wolfkissed_ink. Grinning, you emailed the artist, requesting a consultation.

You explained to the artist during that consultation that you wanted a composition of black-and-grey realistic gladioli on your left thigh. Sword lilies represented strength, after all, and you wanted to commemorate overcoming a difficult part of your life with something gorgeous and symbolic. That and, well, flowers were pretty. Within the week they had responded with a sketch that was beyond what you could have possibly thought up yourself: two stunning, bloomed sprigs of the flower with petals floating either side, lifelike as a monochrome photograph. Smiling ear-to-ear, you booked up your first appointment.

Unbridled excitement led to the time before your appointment soaring by, with you opening up the file of the sketch almost every day. Bringing us to the present: you stood anxiously outside the parlour door, 12:50pm, ten minutes before your scheduled appointment. Sucking in a shaky breath, nerves both good and bad, you stepped inside.

The tattoo shop was sleek, modern and decked wall-to-wall with flash sheets, the small designs varying in style, colour and detail. Everything was spotless, as one would expect, with shining awards dotted about. Just seeing the various trophies did well to quell some of your anxieties, knowing you were in good hands, that you’d end up with a lovely piece on your thigh. A stout man covered neck to foot in swirling Japanese designs manned the front desk, smiling warmly at you, obliterating any stigmas you had heard from older relatives about tattoo culture.

Biting your lip, you made your way to the desk, mustering a nervous smile. As thrilled as you were about getting the tattoo, the whole pain aspect was still rather daunting. “Hey, one o’clock appointment for (Y/N) (L/N)?” You fidgeted with the hem of your shorts while the gentleman checked his desktop.

“With Eivor, right?” he verified. You nodded.

“Sorry I’m a little early—”

“No, not at all! Rather you be early than late,” he chuckled, clearly sensing your worries. His eyes flickered across a clipboard. “She’s not with a client at the moment, so I’ll send you through now, if that’s alright.”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you bade, pulse quickening. Come on, you’ve wanted this for so long, you can’t pussy out now.

The guy asked you to wait by the desk as he ventured down a long corridor, the black paint giving off an ominous vibe that did nothing for your nerves. A few seconds later, he returned, cocking his head for you to follow. Your knuckles were white from gripping the strap of your purse so tightly.

He led you to the room at the end of the hall, holding the glossy black door open for you. “Go easy on her, Eivor, it’s clearly her first,” he called out, flashing you a wink, before letting the door close behind you.

Holy shit.

She was hot.

Eivor was nothing short of a modern day viking. Tall, rippling with muscle, late twenties to early thirties, blond hair strewn into an unruly braid with a strip on the right shaved clean to the flesh, revealing a fucking skull tattoo of a bird…a raven? Her face was stupidly handsome, eyes blue and icy but warm with greeting, a long and gnarly scar cutting into the flesh of her left cheek with a smaller nick protruding from her upper lip. Hell, the nape of her neck was marred with an even more vicious looking scar. She wore a tight black t-shirt that strained around her deliciously grizzled arms, which were adorned with Norse-looking runes and text curving into circles, ink that carried on to her hands and neck. The smile she offered you made you weak in the knees.

“(Y/N), right? I’m Eivor, a pleasure to meet you,” she greeted, voice deep and gravelly, decorated with a rasp that to you sounded like butter. Fuck me, she’s a tall, tall glass of water.

You shook her hand when she extended it to you, marvelling at the patterns and blacked-out bands on her long, thick fingers. Her nails were cut extremely short, confirming the strong lesbian vibe she gave off. “Likewise,” you squeaked, cursing yourself for acting like some bloody schoolgirl.

She sauntered over to her setup, weight carried in her shoulders, consolidating her already intimidatingly attractive butch energy, sanitised her hands and pulled on a clean pair of gloves. “Come on over,” she said, grabbing a disposable razor from a box. “I’ll just need to make sure the area is shaven, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” you replied, joining her by the leather chair, covered by a sheet of cellophane. It was a relief to see all the hygiene precautions taken in the shop. Eivor picked up a disinfectant wipe.

“Left thigh, if I remember correctly?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

She dropped to one knee – wasn’t that a fucking sight – and wiped down the expanse of your thigh before gliding the razor over the flesh.

Hesitantly, you asked her what the general procedure was, desperately trying to divert your thoughts from the sapphic spiral they were travelling down.

“Alright, after I’ve finished here I’ll apply the stencil. You’ll get to check if you like the placement, and if you don’t I’ll keep going until you’re happy with it. It’s a big piece, so we’ll have to split this up into two sessions, as we discussed alongside payment.” She brushed away the loose hairs and peach fuzz. “I’ll do the linework this session, and the shading next time.” With one final pass of the razor she pulled back, tossing it into a bin.

Eivor then picked up a sheet of thin paper with the sketch printed on it. She plucked a purple pen from her table. “Give me a few minutes to trace the stencil, then we’ll apply it and see how you like it.” You nodded, trying to focus on your breathing.

While she traced over each line of the sketch, she kindly attempted to soothe your fears with small talk. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of a ‘gladiolus’ before our consultation. Any reason why you chose it?”

You smiled. “They represent strength. I finally got through a rough spell and wanted something to celebrate with,” you explained, heart skipping a beat at the soft expression on the artist’s face.

“All the more reason to get this perfect then,” she said with a grin. The way the scar on her upper lip quirked was positively adorable. A couple minutes passed and she re-capped the pen. “Stand up straight for me, darling.” Oh.

Cheeks burning with bashfulness, you complied. Eivor took a second to angle the stencil before smoothing it over your thigh, leaving a purple outline once she removed the paper. “Just have a look in that mirror over there and tell me if you’re happy, okay?”

You walked over to the mirror and stared at your thigh. The tattoo was large – which you expected, with the amount of detail in it – and perfectly central, the loose petals appearing to float down the length of your thigh. “Perfect,” you breathed out, giving the woman a thumbs-up.

Eivor switched over her gloves and gestured for you to take a seat on the chair. “Get comfy, then. Do you have water?” Nodding, you took out your water bottle from your handbag. “Brilliant. Still want to do this?”

“Hell yeah.” Weirdly, the nerves about the pain (not about the sexy artist) had almost wholly subsided, leaving you brimming with anticipation.

She poured some jet black ink into small caps, no larger than the tip of your thumb. “Remember to breathe through it and hold still, yeah? You picked a smart place for your first tattoo, not too close to the bone.”

“I’ll try.” Eivor opened a sealed packet containing a new, sterilised needle, inserting it into her tattoo machine. She switched it on, the buzz of the machine’s piston filling the room with a gentle hum. Looking up at you, she cocked her brow – if only your gay thoughts could bugger off for two minutes – as if to ask, ready? Affirmatively, you beamed at her.

Dipping the needle into the ink, she pulled the skin of your thigh taut. Immediately, you noted the warmth of her hand on your leg, fighting off a shudder. Then came a mildly painful scratching sensation as she brought the machine to your thigh.

Honestly? It wasn’t bad. Irritating, like an itchy eye, but not drastically unpleasant. You followed Eivor’s advice, keeping your breathing steady, averting your attention to the artwork on the walls, some of which you had seen on her Instagram portfolio. Portraits, flowers, animals, realistic-looking jewellery…the woman had mastered black-and-grey. You knew you picked the right artist. The frown of concentration on her face spoke volumes about her dedication to the art, steeled and intently focused on the lines she was pulling.

When she wiped the area and reached for more ink, she glanced up at your face. “All good?” she asked.

“Yeah, no issues here.”

“Wonderful.” She set back to work, positioning her needle over the flower’s curved stem, dragging it downwards in a slow arc. “Your skin takes ink like butter, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you breathed out. Her hand suddenly felt a little warmer. Tell me this woman does audiobooks, you thought.

After a few more lines, you tried to pepper in some small talk without breaking her concentration. Fortunately, her bedside manner was immaculate, and she entertained your questions without any grudges.

“Your voice is really soothing. Where abouts are you from?”

“Oh, thank you. I’m from Norway, moved here a few years back.” She grinned at the compliment. “It’s funny, people usually say the opposite about my voice.” You wondered if they were deaf.

“It’s a nice rasp,” you chuckled. Buzzing stopped, more ink.

“I was bitten by a wolf when I was nine,” she explained. Buzzing recommenced, scratching returned. “My larynx never properly healed from it, so I’ve sounded like some chain-smoker since before I hit double-digits, despite never touching a cigarette in my life.”

“You don’t sound like a chain-smoker, though. I mean it.”

Her grin widened. “That actually means a lot.”

An hour passed by, most of it spent in comfortable silence, with Eivor checking in on you occasionally to see how you were coping. Certain patches of nerves stung a little more than others, but none of it was unbearable. That was until her machine passed over a particularly rough area. It fucking killed, the burn of the needle seemingly deeper than anywhere else, the sting infinitely more intense than before. You hissed, gritting your teeth together.

“Ow,” you winced, clutching onto your water bottle in an attempt to relieve the pain, to no avail.

Eivor continued pulling her line, her rasp coming out in a low mantra. “Just breathe through it, nice and slow…” You tried to follow, attempting in vain to relax your shoulders. “Keep holding still for me…” Your breaths came shallow but steadily so, the stinging slowly becoming more endurable. The machine reached the end of the line. “Good girl,” she muttered, blissfully of absent mind.

Good girl.

Oh fuck.

Just when your clearly gay tattoo artist couldn’t get any hotter, she comes out with some hot-girl bullshit like that. And fuck, you didn’t think you had a praise kink before, but now this certainly awakened something. Why, why did it have to sound so good in her husky voice? No, you were absolutely not going to fantasise about your artist, not when her hands were on your skin, on your thigh of all fucking places. God, this stupidly attractive Norwegian butch was making you uncomfortably hot.

When she finally pulled away, sweet bloody reprieve, you took a sip of your water. “That wasn’t fun,” you remarked.

“Took it like a champion, though,” she beamed proudly, clearly unaware of the affect her words had just had on you. “Need a break?”

“Just a minute or two, thank you,” you sighed with relief. Eivor wiped you down and analysed her work.

“We’re just over halfway there,” she commented. Only halfway? Fuck. You allowed your eyes to wander over the black lines, all perfectly smooth from practiced precision. Yeah, this woman was talented.

“I mean, that killed, and that was my thigh…” you trailed off, making her laugh. “What was the most painful tattoo you’ve gotten?”

Eivor answered without hesitation. “My head, without a doubt. Packing solid black into that thing was agony. My fingers killed, too, but all completely worth it.” You couldn’t help but agree with that last part. Her hands looked extremely good, both with and without those gloves.

“I’m guessing places with more nerve endings and by the bone are the worst, then?”

“Definitely. The palm of the hand is the most sensitive, and it’s tough to get right. Ink bleeds, skin bleeds…and if you don’t do it well it’ll just fade. All that pain for nought.”

You gulped down some more water. Ouch. “Duly noted.”

After ninety odd more minutes, Eivor switched off her machine for good, the linework finished and utterly flawless. “All done for this session,” she announced, changing gloves once more to clean and wrap the area. There was minimal irritation around each line, and the wipe felt wonderfully cool against the reddening flesh.

Once she finished placing various equipment in a tub labelled ‘autoclave’, she escorted you to the front desk. You paid half the decided fee of the tattoo and booked your second session for three weeks’ time. Eivor gave you an aftercare kit, explaining in detail how to keep the tattoo clean, how to prevent infection, and to avoid direct exposure to sunlight as much as you could. Eagerly, you listened, trying to drink in as much of her voice as possible before departing.

“I’ll see you in three weeks, then. Take care, (Y/N),” she grinned. From the moment you stepped out of the shop, you knew that grin would be engraved into your mind for the weeks to come.

  The second appointment couldn’t have come quickly enough.

You spent an embarrassing quantity of time thinking about your dreamy tattoo artist, right up until the day you walked back into the shop, this time free of any concerns pertaining to the tattoo. The gentleman from before recognised you and asked how the tattoo was holding up, if you’d had any issues keeping it clean, to which you replied all was good. Only this time, Eivor came to greet you by the front desk.

“How’s it going?” she asked, welcoming as before.

“Really good. I just hope I’ve been doing everything right,” you chuckled, anxiously glancing down at your thigh. The redness had completely disappeared a few days after your first appointment, the black ink proudly meandering over your skin.

Eivor smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, you’d know if you haven’t. From here it looks like you’ve done a fantastic job of keeping it clean, anyway.” You followed her to her studio, mentally noting how she was wearing an even tighter black t-shirt than last time, the fabric clinging to the defined contours of her muscled back, biceps, abs… Needless to say, the gay thoughts had returned at full-force.

As before, she shaved and disinfected your thigh, but instead of a stencil she had the full greyscale reference images for the design printed and taped to a metal beam above her table. She took careful time in diluting various caps of black ink into a plethora of greys, experience shining through as she added precise amounts of diluter to each cap. There was something addictive about watching the woman work, with how methodical she was, how delicately she handled the bottles of ink.

When she unpacked a needle, you noted the shape was different to before. “Now, some parts are gonna be only a little rougher than before. Others will suck, I’ll warn you now,” she mentioned as you positioned yourself on the chair.

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” you joked. Eivor laughed.

“You handled it like a trooper before. I have zero doubts you’ll do the same today.”

And so she began, making multiple passes with the machine unlike before, packing in the different shades of grey in front of her, scratching into the already broken skin. It wasn’t massively painful, but Eivor was right – last time was a breeze in comparison. You rested your eyes and bore the pain, focusing on the faint music playing from the shop’s reception.

As previously, she was ever considerate, checking up on you as she worked – albeit not as frequently, now that you were accustomed to the needles – and encouraging you through the nastier patches. You tried your hardest to not look at your thigh, wanting the final result to be a surprise, but over time it grew increasingly difficult not to sneak a glance at her hands. Merely the thought of them flustered you (pathetic, you knew) and nothing would be more embarrassing than drifting off into a less than appropriate fantasy about the woman when she was simply being professional.

Time blurred together amongst your inner dilemma – to look or not to look – until Eivor’s signature rasp caught your attention. “Time for your least favourite part,” she said, giving you a knowing look, positioning her needle in one of the petals over the area that hurt like a bitch previously.

“Oh god, I forgot about that area.”

“Just own the pain and keep still, alright?”

“I’ll try.”

Eivor smirked: a wicked thing that could have killed every sapphic in a mile radius. “Squirm and I’ll pin you down. I’ve had to do it before, and I’ll do it again.”

That, under different circumstances, would be an appealing notion.

Closing your eyes once more, you tried to decipher the song lyrics resonating through the shop’s hall, grimacing when the needle penetrated the skin. Just focus on Rihanna, focus on Rihanna…

“That’s…not so bad, actually,” you mutter, not entirely self-assured of the words leaving your lips, hoping some placebo affect would take place.

Eivor chuckled, dipping into another shade. “You sound convincing,” she drawled.

“I’m – ow – serious… Okay fuck, that’s way worse.”

“Shh, it’ll be over soon. Find something to focus on.”

So you did, on what happened to be the first thing in your immediate line of sight when you re-opened your eyes: Eivor’s bicep. God, her shirt strained around the muscle, black fabric against tanned skin and the deep green runes littering her arm. Perhaps the ink had something to do with her ancestry, given that the woman said she was Norwegian – that or she was just a mythology nerd. Your eyes trailed over the spirals of script, the perfectly concentric circles. Mind wandering, the idea that she may have tattoos on her back and front piqued your interest. Then came the delightful image of Eivor without a shirt. Pinning you down. Fuck.

Before long the pain subsided, leaving a dull ache where the needle had worked at your skin. “All done, darling,” Eivor murmured, wiping the patch. Darling. You knew it was simply her bedside manner, trying to keep you as relaxed as possible, but damn was it having the polar opposite effect. Cheeks feeling impossibly hot, you unscrewed the cap of your bottle and took a sizeable gulp of water. She gave you a moment to breathe, now that the most difficult part was out of the way. Still flustered, you drained half your bottle.

Concern plastered on her face, Eivor leaned closer, inspecting your face intently. “Are you feeling faint?” she asked, evidently worried. “It’s important you tell me if you are—”

“No, no, I’m fine, really.” You were stuttering, annoyed with yourself that you made her worry. “Just being weird. I promise.”

“You do?” Her eyebrows were still upturned, not entirely believing you.

You nodded frantically. “Yeah, really. Please don’t worry.”

Taking a slow breath, she restarted the machine, relief flashing across her features. She gestured for permission to continue tattooing, which you granted, and set back to work.

Cursing internally, you let your eyes flutter shut, thoughts full of nothing but ‘good girls’ and ‘darlings’ in a husky Norwegian accent. Numbing yourself to the needles, you drifted off into slumber.

  “Hey, (Y/N)?”

A gentle pressure squeezed at your hand, slowly stirring you, bringing you back to the world of the living. Yawning, you opened your eyes, gaze brought to a gloved hand atop your own.

“Good evening,” Eivor said, retracting her hand and watching as you gasped and scanned the studio for a clock in a panic. Evening?

“Kidding,” she laughed. “I finished up ten minutes ago.” You shot her a half-hearted glare through sleepy eyelids.

“That was mean,” you pouted. She grinned.

“I do stab people for a living.”

Snorting, you swung your legs over the side of the chair, stretching them to regain a semblance of sensation. Chest pounding with excitement, you looked to the mirror at the side of the room, then at Eivor, silently asking permission to peak at the finished tattoo. She held out her hand in gesticulation.

Giddy with anticipation, you walked over and… Holy shit.

It was beautiful.

Each shade of grey blended into one another in a perfect harmony, so seamlessly that the black outline from before was barely visible. The shadows underneath each leaf, each petal looked real. Every speckle and wrinkle on the petals shone through, love and attention going into every marking. The falling petals were akin to a photograph, with the light grey background wash tying them to the main flowers, each little shadow appearing to give them different depths. It was beyond anything you imagined. All that pain, mental and physical, turned into a lifetime of beauty.

You didn’t realise you were crying until the salt of tears rolled into your awe-parted mouth.

“I’m, well… Wow.” Beaming, you turned to face your artist, who looked at her artwork with pride. “Thank you, Eivor. Thank you so much.”

She shook her head and offered you a box of tissues, from which you took one gladly. “I’m just honoured to have helped you lay that chapter of your life to rest. May the sword-lilies battle any shreds of it that remain.”

Stunned by her poetic inclination, you dried your eyes in silence, lips curved into a joyous smile. Meanwhile, she removed her gloves.

“You have tissues at the ready. I’m guessing people cry a lot here?” you asked, finally prying your eyes away from the masterpiece on your thigh.

“Mostly from the pain,” she remarked.

“You know, you could just lie to me so I don’t feel like such a fucking sap.”

The sound that left Eivor’s mouth in response was nothing if not angelic. She practically howled in hearty laughter, echoing through her studio, her eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t think it possible for your grin to widen further still, but her outburst was contagious in the best way.

“I’m glad you’re happy with it. Truly,” she breathed out, chest stilling from her fit.

“It’s beautiful. Happy is an understatement.”

Eivor made her way over to the desk in the corner of the studio, where a graphics tablet lay alongside a stylus. “Now, before I dress it, I’m legally required to ask you if I have permission to photograph the tattoo for advertisement purposes. I appreciate it’s a personal subject matter and completely understand if—”

“Go for it,” you shrugged.

“Are you certain?” You nodded.

“Of course. It’s a work of art.” The smile she gave you was genuine.

“This’ll only take a minute. Thank you, really.”

She knelt down and snapped a picture with the tablet, checking the quality. “All done.” Eivor then proceeded to sanitise her hands and slip on one last pair of gloves, grabbing the wipes and plastic wrap from her station. “The photo will be uploaded to the shop’s website and my professional Instagram, if that’s alright with you. Completely anonymous, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Although, it’ll be weird seeing my leg on my feed.” She chuckled.

“Feel free to email or DM if you have any concerns with the healing.” Patting your leg, she stood up to her full height, placing her gloves in a biohazard ziplock. “Well, I’m honoured to have given you your first tattoo.”

“Honoured to be your…canvas?”

And just like that, your time with the artist was up. You watched wistfully as she put together an aftercare pack at the front desk, your previously overjoyed expression drifting into a sad one. After paying, you thanked her one final time.

“Take care, søta,” she said with a wink.

The very moment you arrived back home, you whipped out a Norwegian-to-English translator and immediately tried to replicate her pronunciation of the word she called you, blushing profusely when discovering it meant ‘cutie’. And upon opening your cleaning pack, you found an addition that wasn’t present in your previous bundle:

A small slip of paper. On one side, a mobile number. On the other, in beautifully neat cursive,

I’d love to take you to dinner. Text me if you’re interested?

Yours, Eivor

[emsartwork]

i forgot to add: how do design ????!?!??????

So I’m not expert but this is how I think of character design! (also sry if you were asking about clothing/outfit design thats a little different)

under the cut because this is long im so sorry

So in my opinion there are three really important aspects for character design!

AESTHETIC: obviously everybody’s aesthetic is different, but this is more about what vibe the character has, what makes them THEM design wise. 

INTENTION: who is the character supposed to be? this can range from their personality, their back story, their occupation, or their role in the story, but the design need to fit that intention.

COHESION: does the design go well together? or do certain aspects clash too much? obviously you can have disjointed parts of a character design, and if those serve a purpose then thats fine, but if its so disjointed its distracting from the character as a whole you might need to tweak things. 

AESTHETIC: the contrasting part of the design (white flowers in dark hair, dark trim on dress, and dark shoes) provide interest to the eye. The mixing of round and sharp shapes also keeps the design from feeling “boring” even though its relatively simple. 

INTENTION: so what role would this little doodle character have? according to her design elements, shes cute and friendly with her round shapes (bouncy balls, babies, etc), but could have a sharp/fast/active or even dangerous edge to her with the triangles (arrows, knives etc). of course the design doesn’t limit her possible roles. She could be a bubbly younger sister who teases the older protagonist, or maybe she’s the villain hiding in plain sight. the shape this character design doesn’t really have is squares(think bricks and rocks), which communicates that she might not be really strong, steady, or reliable. 

COHESION: repeating the curves across her whole design builds cohesion, it communicates that “yes, these are all part of the same character”, it also allows the eye to “rest” on a familiar shape or line. 

NOW LETS LOOK AT SOME DESIGNS

(Boku no Hero Academia) so both of these characters are super heroes, but have vastly different design elements. so lets analyze them.

OCHAKO(the pink one) is all rounds, with a few pointed shapes in hair mostly, but a little on her costume as well. Her personality is cute, bubbly, and friendly which perfectly suits her soft and bouncy design. Howevre she also has a very slight edge to her, which is seen her determination and drive to improve herself over the course of the anime. 

KIRISHIMA(the red one) at first glance, seems to be super pointy!! shapes that are usually seen on villains or really dangerous characters, but while he IS sharp(literally sometimes) and sometimes aggressive, he is also made of squares, which perfectly suits his loyal “i gotchu bro” attitude towards most of the other characters in the anime.  

ISSUE AREAS: so the only problems i have with Ochako and Kirishima’s designs is that their costumes each have one area that clashes a little too much for my taste. With Ochako, the belt over the color blocking stripes down her crotch are......questionable taste wise. I think the design would be better if the pink chest ended above the belt in a shallow v. not only would this mirror the triangle aspects of her hair, it would fit the belt outline, and continue the trend her costume has of being “grounded” or “heavy”. Kirishima has those.... gears??? around his shoulders??? and while the gear teeth are technically squares, the gear shape itself is a circle, which is a shape that isn’t present anywhere else in his design. I think changing the gears to something similar to his boots or his mask/headgear would create a more cohesive design(also the gears just look hard to move in)

These two characters are presented as individuals so their costumes don’t have to match at all even though they are still seen as “connected” because of the art style for the face, hair, and body. 

In a group giving the outfits cohesive motifs is an easy way to present a strong team image! In Yuki Yuna is a Hero, the girls all have colored lines(usually princess seam placement), armor or fabric hip accents, covered arms, and similar flower shapes in their hair. The Aesthetic of each girl is strong in a monochrome signature color, but not over whelming as the black+white connects them even in color so they aren’t out of place. 

Speaking of color! if your characters are all similar looking (like same body for all of them) you can communicate their personality and aesthetic just with color! (only gonna talk about a few of the ponies) Pinkie Pie (the really pink one) is energetic and playful, so her color scheme is a variation of the primary colors(happy, child like), and have one of the more saturated colors(high energy, intense) of these characters in a large quantity. Apple Jack (the orange one) is a down to earth farm girl, and her color palette is accordingly, mostly earth tones, its also warm analogous colors, which makes her appear un-complicated and warm personality wise. the pop of red is a nice touch to add interest, but notice that its uses sparingly in her cutie mark and tail accessory. Rarity on the other hand is elegant and fussy, her high contrast scheme of white and dark blue/purples gives her more visual interest and is something that makes her appear more “complex” in addition to the gradient thats included in her hair. the colors are also all cool colors, bringing to mind cool glass or water which both have connotations of grace and beauty.

however all the characters here are unified by their colors being on the pastel side, which is also important for a cohesive cast.

another, short, note on color; making the color/line/shading of your figure different from the background can help them stand out, this is used ESPECIALLY in children’s media, but can be applied to any illustration or animation as needed.

Color can also help your characters “read” quickly on screen, the powerpuff girls are a prime example, of having a distinct color blocking and silhouette. even the color blobs at the top and my crappy hand silhouettes STILL read as the characters despite being broken down into abstract elements. I also really enjoy the thick outline in the powerpuff girls, it really makes the characters pop to the foreground even though they have pretty simple designs and are often in a colorful setting.

Also, for a lot of animation, silhouette is INCREDIBLY important for your characters, some designers sketch silhouettes and then design the particulars its so important to nail the shape. These examples from Coraline are some of my favorites (though Laika wins in my heart every time no matter what lmao) because the simple shapes are SO CLEAR and indicative of the character, you literally don’t need to have watched the movie to know these are each different characters with different personalities and roles. 

silhouette can also help tell the story. In Kubo and the two strings (another Laika film) the above three characters are sisters. One has chosen to leave her home in the heavens to live on earth, and the other two stay in their roles as “heavenly” warriors. This is even shown through their designs, the two sisters are weighted on top and their cloaks don’t even touch the ground, while the first woman has trailing, heavy sleeves, hair, and robes all grounding her and emphasizing her connection with the earth.

another example of shape/silhouette reflecting the story, In The Croods, the family of cavemen are for the most part very top heavy, with large torsos and arms, usually in a more hunched over position, while the newcomer, Guy, is bottom heavy with thin arms and stands more upright. In the plot, the family represents the old ways, the strength and rules that have helped them survive, they look like very stereotypical “cavemen”, while Guy resembles the modern man, and appropriately is associated with new ideas and forward thinking.

MORE SHAPES, in DC super hero girls each girl has a distinct personality emulated by her shape language. Zatana is dramatic curves and edges, Super girl is hard, straight edges against curves, giving her a solid muscular shape. Wonder Woman, though also strong, is taller and leaner, lending to a confident leader type. Green Lantern is slim, her lines all flow into each other giving her a go with the flow look. Bumble Bee is, of course, tiny, but her boots and gauntlets add weight and strength to her otherwise small frame. Batgirl is lanky and has a lot of pointed style lines, reminding the viewer of a skinny cat (ironic what with cat woman i know) or weasel which mirrors her preferred “sneaky” crime fighting style.  (also yes this was just an excuse for me to gush abt how much i love the dcshg designs shut up)

so in my opinion, Cartoon Saloon’s The Secret of Kells is PERFECT in aesthetic, intention, and cohesion. Kells focuses very strongly on creating silhouette WITHIN the larger figure shape via color and line, most of the characters pictured here have no neck, the one who does, Brendan, is the main character and the use of negative space that cuts into his shape is used to draw attention to him. Kells is also very strongly inspired by Medieval Illuminated manuscripts (namely, the book of kells lmao). The characters still manage to stand out against outrageously detailed backgrounds via their simple shapes and strong color blocking. 

Aisling, a secondary but very important character, is not human, and has a totally different shape language from the rest of the characters. She is thin and pointy, while most of the others are round or square. Aisling also has the most negative space making up her silhouette, compare the triangles made by her arms and legs in the above picture to the figures in the first image where everybody’s body is self contained with no negative space. She is also very different color wise, very pale and cool colored, as opposed to the warm saturated colors of the human characters. (yes this was another excuse to gush abt one of my fave pieces of media deal with it)

hopefully that wasn’t too rambley and actually helps? if yall have more specific design questions lemma know lol

[thiswasinevitableid]

Furies (Mermay OT4)

Request from @angellioncosplay, fill is NSFW

The jagged edge of the harpoon slices into his tail. 

Barclay knows he’s doomed but he thrashes and tries to dive all the same. He doesn’t know what the boar above wants, doesn’t care, he just wants to go home, he has to make it back to them, please, all he wants is to see them again. 

A second barb pierces his side, blood clouds his vision. 

In the darkness below, he thinks he sees two red lights racing closer. Then the harpooners tug, and the world snaps to black.

--------------------------------------

“Is he stable?” Duck whispers as Aubrey swims out of Barclay’s bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

“Yeah. I’m glad Indrid warned us when he did; if he’d lost much more blood, I’m not sure even my powers coulda helped.”

“And Joe and ‘Drid?”

“They’re gonna stay with him. I think they’re okay but, well” she sighs, shakes her head, “if that’d happened to Dani, I don’t think anything could make me leave her side.” She loops their arms together as they swim to the door, “do you wanna come stay with us? I know this is hard on them, but you had to, like, break a harpoon in half while one of your friends almost died.”

“Nah, oughta stay in case any of ‘em need somethin.”

“You want to keep Dr. Harris Bonkers for extra support?” She holds out her sea bunny.

Duck rubs it’s back, “I’ll be okay, but thanks for the offer Lady Flame. You get home safe now.”

“I will. Oh” She turns, swimming backwards as she adds, “if he needs any more healing between now and tomorrow, come get me right away!”

He promises he will, locks the house up for the night and floats into the kitchen to put it back in some kind of order. Indrid’s sketch pad and enchanted pen are still on the floor where he dropped them, Joseph’s book and Duck’s half-built model ship knocked sideways from the seer pushing away from the table in a flurry of silver and panic. And on the counter are the ingredients Barclay’d set out for dinner, the ones he was checking off when he realized he needed scallops and swam off with a promise to be right back. 

Duck sighs, jumps when something whaps at the green-glass window. 

“Jesus Winnie, thought you were in the bedroom.” He cracks the window enough to lift the octopus inside. See slowly slides off his arm, swimming across the floor to the pile of salvaged ship instruments Duck and Indrid found for her. 

“Maybe this will keep her from stealing the silverware.” Barclay plucks a knife from the cephalopods tentacle. 

Suddenly, he’s too heavy to swim. They almost lost him. 

It’s simple, really. Duck is in love with Joe and Indrid. Joe and Indrid are in love with Barclay. But that doesn’t mean Duck doesn’t love the other mer; Barclay is one of his best friends, a sympathetic ear when things go south and the only one of the four of them capable of beating Joe at Ten Shells. Barclay also understands something about Duck that escapes many of their kind; that he can love Joe, curious and meticulous from his black hair to his dapper monochrome tail, and Indrid, strange and aloof until you gave him the right kind of stroke on his silver scales, with the same intensity. It just manifests in different ways. 

Duck cracks the bedroom door open, finds the wounded mer on his back in their large, seaweed colored bed. Indrid and Joe are nestled on either side of him. Normally, they’d be an undignified, loving pile, but the bandages on his stomach and tail prevent it. 

Indrid stirs, trilling in distress. His nightmares come and go, are most often the echos of horrible futures he was forced to watch over and over. Duck has a pretty good guess as the which one is playing in his mind tonight. 

He wiggles down onto the bed, draping his arm over Indrid’s side and guiding his bony back and red fin against his chest. When Indrid registers his weight, the nervous twitches of his tail stop. Duck glances up, watches Barclay’s hand glide down the bed to hold Indrid’s own. 

Someone almost took this from them. Almost ripped away pieces of the hearts of the mers he loves most in the world. 

And he wants to know who. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dearest, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, totally fine.” Barclay tries to sit up as a demonstration, only for his whole body to convulse. He falls back against the bed, whimpering pathetically. 

“Hmmm, I was afraid that would be the case. There were some timelines where you healed quickly, but it seems the monsters who attacked you did a great deal of damage.”

“No, no, it was just a twinge, if you give me a sec I can-”

“-You will stay in bed.” Indrid’s red gaze sharpens, “no mate of mine is going to re-open his wounds trying to make me breakfast.”

“Besides” Joseph looks up from setting all the med supplies they need in tidy stacks and lines, “it’s not like Duck or I can’t cook. You need to rest, big guy.” He swims over, strokes Barclays hair. Barclay leans into the feelings, trying to ignore the fear gnawing a new hole in his side. 

In the three days since the attack, he hasn’t been alone. His boyfriends and friend take turns sitting with him, talking when he wants to and letting him sleep when he needs, bringing him food and changing his bandages without complaint. 

It’s all wrong. That’s not their job. It shouldn’t be, that’s what they have him for. Some part of him wishes they’d been too late. Because he doesn’t want to face what’s coming. 

------------------------------------------------

“Any luck?” 

“Some. Juno says she saw an unfamiliar hull pass by about an hour before Barclay got attacked, but she wasn’t close enough to see any details.”

“Damn it.” Joseph slams the book one human weapons in frustration, then cringes at his outburst. 

Duck swims to him, pulling him up from the chair into an embrace, “We’ll figure it out, slick. Nothin else, happen to know we got a real smart mer workin the case.” He winks, kisses Joseph on the cheek. 

He snorts, then looks at the floor, “Some part of me is worried about what will happen if we do figure out who hurt him. I...I don’t believe in violence outside of dire circumstances, but they, they nearly killed him. I’d like to say my motive in seeking them out is to make sure they can’t hurt anyone else but, well, that’s secondary at best. What I want is to make them pay.”

“That makes two of us” Indrid slithers in the door, “he’s sound asleep, not to worry. I have narrowed down our potential culprits with my visions, but I too am afraid of what I may do if I locate the humans who dared harm him.”

“I get the feelin, but right now we’re mostly borrowin trouble. Let’s wait until we know a little more before decidin whether to track ‘em down.”

Joseph nods, opens his mouth to suggest one of them retrieve dinner from the fishmonger down the block, when there’s a crash from the kitchen. 

“Damn, Winnie must’ve gotten into the cabinets again.”

Indrid blinks, then frowns, “No, that is not her doing.”

Rushing into the kitchen reveals Barclay trying to arrange food on the counter. His upper body can barely move, and his tail is unable to maintain direction due to the bandages. 

“Don’t worry about, ow, me” Barclay smiles at them, but Joseph spots panic in his eyes, “th-thought I’d do some meal prep since you’re all gonna be busy this week.”

He’s about to point out that a)they’re all capable of feeding themselves even when busy and b)Barclay’s only been recovering for a week and a half and Aubrey explicitly told him it would be at least a month before he could move around without help.

Before he can make any points at all, Indrid draws himself up to his full height, frills of his ears fanned out and gestures to the bedroom, “You will do no such thing. You need your rest, dearest.”

“But-”

“That was an order, not a request.” It’s a tone that never fails to make Joseph’s spine turn to mush, and by the flash of pink in Barclay’s tail, he feels the same way. Then his whole tail drains of color and he nods. 

“Right. Sorry. I, I didn’t mean to upset you guys.”

Indrid’s frills flatten and he swims swiftly towards the other mer, “Barclay, I’m not-”

“It’s okay. I caused enough trouble already.” He catches Indrid by the chin to kiss him, blows a second kiss Joseph’s way, then disappears into the bedroom. 

As Indrid flicks his tail nervously, Duck clears his throat, “Know I joke about him not havin a selfish bone in his body, but this is startin to get ridiculous.”

The silver-scaled mer sighs, coiling his tail around Joseph’s own and opening his arms so Duck will come give him a hug. When the three of them are close together he murmurs, “ I saw this timeline, but I had so hoped it would not be the one we ended up in. I have mentioned before that the culture Barclay and I grew up in as deep water mers is very different than what you have on the reef. One component of that was the belief that a mer who could not carry his weight in his home would not be in said home for much longer. His mate or mates not only could, but were encouraged to, throw him out to make room for a more useful partner.”

The entirety of Joseph’s stomach crawls up his throat, “He really thinks we’d do that to him?”

“I suspect so.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “Barclay is already prone to such fears, in that he prides himself on taking care of others. And it is a deeply ingrained message and practice, so much so that there are times I still fear you three may turn me away should my powers disappear.”

“‘Drid-”

The mer purrs reassuringly, “But then I remind myself that I am not down there. I am up here, with you who love me regardless of my strength. Seeing the future helps a great deal as well; I can peek and see there are no timelines where you turn me away. Hmm” his tail taps Sterns lower back, “I wonder, is there a way we can mimic that experience for Barclay? Help him see his future here?”

Joseph gets an idea and, for the first time all day, the sense that he’s getting somewhere, “I have a plan.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay isn’t sure if this is some cruel joke, or if his boyfriends genuinely believe they won’t grow tired of him needing to be cared for all the time. Regardless, he doesn’t know what to do when Joseph lays beside him, kissing his cheek and shoulder as he talks about how they should go see the Kelpie migration this fall, and how he’s heard about a human beach where they serve a swim-up meal to mers and humans alike, and wouldn’t it be nice for all four of them to visit and try the food?

He doesn’t know what to do when Indrid gently sits him upright and combs his hair, jumping from topic to topic between kisses to the back of his neck but always returning to what they should do for Joseph’s birthday, or Dani and Aubrey’s anniversary, or their own anniversary.

He doesn’t know what to do right now, Indrid sitting and drawing while Joseph finishes changing the bandages on his tail. The one on his side came off a few days ago, scar tissue forming a jagged tooth of pink and white in his skin. 

Duck swims in, greeting them all at once, his usually friendly expression somber. 

“Joe, ‘Drid, could I talk to you in the kitchen? It’ll only be a minute.”

His boyfriends nod, assuring him they’ll be back even as they swim away. He wishes he could believe it, but he can think of only one reason Duck would need to talk to them alone. With a sad little groan, he rolls onto his uninjured side and pities himself to sleep. 

-----------------------------------------------------

“You’re sure that’s the one?”

“Positive. Minerva had a near miss with it this mornin, described the exact same thing Barclay did. Speakin of which, we know they’re down a few harpoons because the ones they sent after her she threw right back at them.”

“A fair response if ever there was one. Do we all agree on the plan?”

“Yep”

“Yes.”

“Good” A smile that could make a sea monster afraid, “then let us begin.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Winthrop lounges on the deck of the Nemo as his guests and the hired guides mill around the edges of the boat. After that run-in with the mermaid earlier today, they’re on pins and needles, hoping to see and (finally) catch another. 

Is poaching in a protected cove illegal? Only if you don’t have the money to pay the fine. Is it wrong to hunt the rare creatures that call this stretch of ocean home? Wrong is a deeply subjective concept. 

Warmth leaves the deck as clouds swirl above the sun. 

“I say, wasn’t it sunny a moment ago?”

“Yep. Could be again, provided y’all head to shore and never come back here.” A voice calls from the bow. 

Everyone races forward, shouting in excitement when they discover the merman addressing them with an oddly calm expression.

“Don’t even think about tryin to spear me. You ain’t the only ones with weapons.”

A second mer surfaces, armed with a spear gun he clearly knows how to use. 

“Joe’s a damn good shot.”

The other mer fixes them with a steely gaze, “This is your last warning. Leave this cove and never try to hunt here again.”

“Or what?”

The whole boar rocks as something massive bumps the underside. Screams draw his attention to the silver, serpentine shape gliding through the water. A red fin breaks the surface and then it’s gone. 

Then the boat nearly capsizes as it rams the port side. In the darkening waves, the monster turns it’s head to look up at them. It’s red eye is the size of a steering wheel, but he forgets all about that when the creature rears up, jaws snapping, and narrowly misses dragging his wife off the boat between butcher-knife teeth. 

“Our friend here is mighty angry with you” the first merman rubs the monster's fin as it swims by him, “in fact, he’s downright furious.”

“And it looks like he’s decided to build up some speed before hitting you this time. I don’t think your boat will survive that amount of force.”

“Alright, alright we’ll leave, we’ll go and never come back.”

A hissing screech from the monster. 

“We swear!” He says, really meaning it this time. 

The first merman points towards shore, “then get goin’.”

The boat speeds away, and Winthrop decides to never, ever look back. 

-------------------------------------------

“That was fuckin incredible darlin’”

“Thank you” Indrid returns to his usual form, groggy but pleased, “you were both wonderful as well.”

“Never been happier that you’re so into workin out how human machines operate” Duck kisses Joseph hard, one of Indrid’s favorite sights in the whole of the sea.

 “If you like how I handle a spear gun, you should see how I handle, um, other things.”

“I am” Indrid yawns, “in favor of that idea. But first, I believe I am due for a nap, and Barclay is due for an update.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“You did all that for me?” Barclay twists his fingers in the blanket beneath him, trying to sound pleasantly surprised instead of confused. From the look Joseph and Duck trade, he’s doing a shit job. 

“Well, technically we also did it to keep the reef safe from hunters, and hopefully start a legend that will keep any like-minded poachers from coming within fifty miles of our home. Or our family. And yes, dearest, that includes you.” In the darkened bedroom, deep purple shimmers up Indrid’s tail. A signal to obey.

“I, I never said it didn’t.”

“Yes, but it has been on your mind for weeks.”

“I…”

“Barclay” Joseph settles beside him, taking his hand, “Indrid told us about what you two were taught about needing care or being helpless. I, we, none of us want you thinking that’s what will happen here. I promise.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying, not until Indrid whispers “hush now, dear one” and carefully rests their tails together so that the wound is left untouched.

“I, I thought saying it would make it worse. Make you think I needed reassurance, which would just make it clear how useless I am. I, I know that sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous to feel vulnerable or scared after something traumatic.” Joseph traces his fingers up and down his arm and his scales ripple in reply. 

“Nor to feel off-balance when you are unable to do what you usually do.”

“But you gotta tell us next time.” Duck rests next to Joseph, “we care about you, all three of us, but we can’t help if we don’t know what’s wrong.”

He flashes apologetic yellow, “You’re right. I’ll, I’m gonna try to be better about that. It’s just hard for me to let other mers take care of me sometimes.”

The purple returns to Indrid’s tail, and when he turns to look at Barclay his smile is no longer gentle and ethereal. It’s almost tangible enough to slice his chest and send everything he wants pouring onto the bed. 

“It seems to me, my dear one, that you could use some practice in that area.”

“Yes” he murmurs, then yips when Indrid bites his throat, “I mean yes, sir.”

“Much better. After all, your convalescence has made such things difficult until now. And yes, Joseph, I will keep an eye on the futures to be certain no one is hurt. Speaking of which: Duck, please adjust so Barclay’s head is in your lap. You’ll need to hold his shoulders down should he try and disobey me.”

A shift of the bed and then his head rests on mottled green scales. 

“Hey” He smiles up and Duck sends a crooked grin his way, setting more pink off in his tail. He may not want to fuck him, but Barclay’s not about to deny how handsome Duck can be.

This rumination distracts him from Indrid and Joseph’s conversation, so he’s pleasantly surprised when the black-tailed mer catches his lips in a kiss. It’s precise, down with calculated care that always makes him feel like the most interesting, important thing in the world. 

“That’s it big guy, relax for us.”

“I’, I’m tryINGfuck, it’s, it’s kinda hard when Indrid is doing that.”

Indrid chuckles, continues teasing the scales in his upper tail, “Shall I stop?”

“No, please no-”

“Please what?” His slit opens at the steel in Indrid’s voice. 

“Please sir.”

“Good boy. Ah, and here’s that lovely cock of yours. What shall I do with it, hmmm?”

“Anything you want sir.” He tries not to giggle as Joseph nibbles his ear.

“I was not asking you.” Indrid cocks his head at Duck.

“Huh” Duck toys with Barclays hair, “think I wanna see you suck it. Been too damn long since you had a dick in your mouth that wasn’t mine.”

Indrid licks his lips and then Barclay’s moans fill the bedroom as his boyfriend lovingly sucks the head of his cock. 

“Is now the time to mention he sucked me off yesterday while you were at work?” Joseph smiles up at Duck, though his hand is busy teasing Barclay’s nipples. 

Duck growls, “and you didn’t even give an encore where I could watch. Mighty rude of you. Both of you.”

“Don’t blame me” Indrid jerks Barclay off with one hand and fingers his slit with the other, “you know how needy our pet gets.”

“True. Guess I’ll have to put him in his place.” Duck looks down at Barclay, gaze soft in spite of his tone, “not tonight though. Tonight his job is to take care of you.”

“Speaking of which” Joseph turns his face into another kiss just as Indrid’s mouth envelopes his cock once again. He moans and whimpers between those perfect lips, a month of not even being able to touch himself meaning his body is already being dragged towards orgasm. His hand finds Joseph’s tail, petting it enticingly. 

“If you AHnnnfuck, lay perpendicular babe, I can suck you off without hurting myself.”

Joseph glances at Indrid, who pulls off of Barclay’s cock and shakes his head, “Not tonight, dearest.”

He whimpers, tries to lift his head, use his tongue to tease Joseph’s retreating tail, only or Duck to hold him firmly in place. 

“I know, sweet one, you do so love being inside our pet, whether with that talented tongue, those skillful hands, or this sinful thing.” He gives a final jerk, then uses his tail to guide Joseph into his former position, “And I would never deny you that pleasure. He’s such a good little pet after all.” He kisses Joseph posessively, then glides behind him and sets his hands on his waist, “which is why I am going to fuck him on you. I will control his movements, so as to avoid aggravating your injury.”

“And because you get off on it.” Duck adds.

“That too.”

“AHfuck!” Barclay’s whole tail lights up purple for an instant as Indrid shoves Joseph down onto his cock. He might submit to Indrid, but Joseph is the mer in the sea he most wants to claim, to fuck until he’s begging for more.

“Nghnshit, shit that’s so good big guy, fuck I missed this.”

“Ahem.” 

“Thank you Indridoh, ohohohohfuck.” Joseph’s hands scrabble on Barclay’s tail as Indrid bounces him up and down. He looks so handsome like this, cock hard and slit swallowing Barclay to the hilt, dark hair loose and framing his head like a crown. 

Barclay reaches for him, desperate for a touch, but Duck holds him down.

“Thank you, love, if he had moved just then he would have hurt himself.”

“Don’t care” Barclay growlwhines, “Joseph, babe, wanna touch you so bad.”

“You’ll get to, big guy, there’ll be plenty of chances after this.”

He growls, teeth clenched as the riptide of his orgasm pulls at him. 

“It’s okay big fella, you can let go. We’ve got you.” Duck’s voice, as soothing as the hand he scritches down his scalp. 

“Fuck” is all he gets out before Indrid pushes Joseph down and Barclay spurts up into him with moan. 

“Better, big guy?” Joseph’s smile is as dazzling as ever. 

“Uh huh.” His bones are mud, his eyes heavy, and he feels better than he has all month. 

“Good. Come, let me look you over and hold you. Duck and Joseph will join us shortly.”

“But I thoughtAHfuck” is all he hears before the sound of Duck frantically fucking Joseph fills one half of the room, his boyfriends moan switching from charming to mouthwatering as Duck keeps fucking him after he’s cum. 

Indrid builds them a nest on the other side of the bed, guides him into it to comb his hair and rub his aching shoulders, humming as he does. Eventually, Duck swims over to join them, Joseph more floating than swimming in his embrace. 

“How do you feel, big guy?”

“Good. Really, really good.” He closes his eyes, safe in the knowledge that his home and family will still be his when he wakes up.

Then he opens them again.

“Wait, so what the fuck did you actually do to the guy who harpooned me?”

[llamasgotoheaven]

Hi!

TLDR Version is: I’m opening commissions! I need work ASAP.

Hi followers! You are hopefully familiar with my creative work if you follow this tumblr. I’ve both drawn and written for you and myself for years on here. To those of you seeing my work for the first time: I hope u like it.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

In these troubling covid times, I am still a near full-time university student (I currently study at a pace of 75% because I exclude an electoral course that I don’t need for my degree).I don’t get particularly huge chunks of loan and student aid per month. I usually live modestly enough that I get by on that, but this April of 2020 I needed to buy extra clothes and vitamin b12 supplements for my anemic self. All of this means that I am looking at some very thin scrapings next week before my study aid money arrives. SO, I’m currently in need of more real employment in my spare hours of the day.

As you might have noticed, my main strength lies in portraiture. That being said, I am more than open to new challenges though as I love developing as a creator.

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Examples of images I have been requested to draw in the past:

-people of all ages from photographic reference

-animal drawings

-characters from games/movies (Including original characters! And any ship you could want.)

-An illustration of a scene from a stage play

-Architecture and environments.

-graphic design work for an application (Although this is not my field per se, so I may require a little guidance.)

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  My prices look like this:

Comic Style Sketches:

-Silly doodle (like the Lemongrab and the screamy friend to his right (last pictures)  €5

-sketchy portrait from the neck up (purple person above Lemongrab) €10

-Sketchy character waist up or full body gesture ( couple above Lemongrab (minus the paper stains and drawing errors. Those are from accidental foolishness and thin paper.)  €15*

*Extra characters cost  €5 per character

Carefully shaded and classically composed works:

-One character from the waist/hips & up: monochrome with a Simple background) €100

-One character from the waist/hips & up: monochrome with an elaborate background)  €150

-One character from the waist/hips up: Colored with a simple background €200

- One character from the waist/hips up: Colored with an elaborate background  €250

-Additional characters in the foreground or midground can be added to the image for €50.

-”Background extras” Meaning simplified human figures or animals in the background-- count as elaborate background, and will therefore not cost extra.

I know my prices for elaborate shaded pieces can be steep for people my own age in similar positions, but I would like to emphasize this is because I am a certified classically trained artist who studied at a world class fine art atelier for two and a half years.  Also: Many of the fine tuned drawings take 10 hours or more to make, so if anything I am selling classical art styled fan art at a real bargain. (Roughly 10 euros per hour of my time, not including the time I spend honing my skills in my spare time to stay in good artistic shape.)

****I am currently pretty much only working digitally due to a windows update that rendered my scanner useless. The only exception is if people are okay with me taking high-res photographs of the commission using my iPhone 7 to the best of my ability, and then sending the original drawing to them by post.****

Comissions are paid for via my paypal danitiwa@hotmail.com , and I take payment up front before I start the project for the sake of my security.

If you have questions or want to purchase some art, you’re welcome to write me via the tumblr chat system, or via my email (danitiwa@hotmail.com) 

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☕ ☕ If any of the above images are pleasing to you but you can’t think of anything you want drawn, or afford to buy anything... Please consider buying me a ko-fi here  . ☕ ☕

Big thanks for your time and attention!

[mlpdestinyverse]

“Gallery of Infamy”

While figuring out a way to mend their relationship with their mother Rainbow Dash, the mare gives Monochrome a surprise visit that leads them through memory lane.

Feat: Monochrome

Story and Description Under The Cut

Tick...tick… The sound of a ticking wall clock was the only thing that bounced off the cloud-walls of Monochrome’s room. There they sat at their wooden desk in one corner, pencil in wing...staring. They blankly stared at the crisp sheet of paper laid out before them, with a measly two sentences written at the top. But no matter how long they sat there thinking, sifting through their brain for the right coherent thoughts and feelings, the words they sought out just refused to form. Soon enough the pegasus was shoving the paper away from them, towards a messy pile of other discarded attempts.  Firmly placing their pencil down, Monochrome sat back in their chair with a light creak and closed their eyes. A frustrated sigh escaped their muzzle. “This isn’t working…” they mumbled to themself, opening their green eyes half way to tiredly stare at the white ceiling. Monochrome knew themself. They knew they were horrendously incapable of putting their feelings into words. And now, they were learning that it wasn’t just the spoken word that they struggled with. So much for having a famous writer for a mom. ‘How am I going to do this…?’ Mo’s eyes opened fully when they felt something cold, smooth, and familiar nudge at their leg. Looking down, they were greeted by curious beady eyes and a lovable wrinkly green face. Tank slow-blinked at Monochrome and a crease in his forehead gave away his confusion and worry. As he tilted his head to express his question, a soft and adorable turtle-grunt left his throat. Monochrome’s stresses began to seep away at the sight. With a gentle smile, Mo shook their head. “I’m fine, Tank. I’m just trying to figure out how to...talk to mom. Rainbow Dash, I mean.” The turtle’s eyes widened in recognition, and ever so slowly a wide, delighted smile began to pull at his mouth. Very slowly. Yet Monochrome loved watching it nonetheless. “I know...a long time coming, I guess. “ Reaching out, Monochrome sifted their failed letter attempts into a pile, making a mental note to take them to a recycler later. “I need to...sort things out. And take that actual first step in moving past my problems with her. But I don’t know what I’m doing…” Monochrome frowned down at the pile, taking in the various erase marks and struck-out words. It really was so much easier, avoiding these feelings altogether and the ones who fueled them. The insecurity. The bitterness. Monochrome guarded themself from these feelings with indifference and detachment. That’s who they’d become. They knew it all too well. If only they knew how to convey that. They needed to let her know, right? That out of everyone in their life - between the harsh peers and long lost friends - she was the one who had contributed to their...problems the most. 'She certainly didn't help my case...' Before Monochrome could let themself indulge in these thoughts they had been so keen on burying, the sound of their doorbell reached their ears. The pegasus raised an eyebrow before pushing their chair out and climbing off. “I’ll be back, Tank.” After an affectionate pat on the turtle’s head, Monochrome set off for the front door. As they moved down their hallway to the foyer, they searched their brain for any ideas on who could be at their door. The mail had already been delivered earlier in the day. And they didn’t have to recheck deadlines to know that none of their commissions were due." ‘Skychaser’s been busy. Ven, maybe? I know he and mom came back last week-’ So as Monochrome opened their door, one could imagine their tension, and confusion, over seeing a surprised Rainbow Dash at their doorstep. “Chromey~!” Their mother exclaimed, a grin stretching across her face. “EYYY you’re actually home for once! Venny can never seem to find you here, you know?” “Hello….” Monochrome greeted slowly, still processing the mare’s presence. With a soft “oooh!” at seeing the foyer behind them, Rainbow Dash invited herself in and flew past their kid. Even as they closed their door, Monochrome eyed their mother, perplexed. Wary, even. ‘She always sends Ven to get me...since when did she visit me personally?’ “Did you need something…?” They asked hesitantly, interrupting their mother as she admired the room. The question caught her attention and she playfully rolled her eyes, drifting down to land on the floor and wave a hoof dismissively at them. “PSSSH, whaaaat?! I can’t visit my own kiddo from time to time?” Something about the slightly higher pitch to her voice gave the pegasus the impression that she was hiding something. But Monochrome didn’t have much time to voice any other questions as their mother gave the room another glance around. “Geez, this place is looking AWESOME, Chromey! haven’t been in here since you moved in last year!” She sighed wistfully. “Takes me back to when I had my own cloudominium...good times! How are you liking it here? I’m sure having your own place is pretty cool, huh~?” “It is,” Monochrome agreed, their gaze flicking off to one side. They shifted in discomfort, feeling oddly vulnerable. “It’s been nice.” This was weird...right? Their mother visiting was already throwing them off. But really, a random opportunity to ‘make up’ with her had literally just waltzed in unannounced.  Yet something this unplanned was not making the idea of it any easier. ‘I’m not ready for this...am I supposed to spend time with her? I don't even know what to talk about.’ It was then that Rainbow’s eyes caught sight of a certain wall in their hallway, and her magenta eyes lit up. “Now wait a damn second, you sneaky little- are those ribbons?!” She briskly trotted over and Monochrome followed close behind. The hallway wall presented an assortment of Monochrome’s art pieces, all lined up neatly in black picture frames. Some pieces were simply projects Monochrome had wanted on display, while others had ribbons of different shapes and sizes pinned at the corners. Rainbow Dash let out a long whistle at the sight. “Like mother like kiddo, if you ask me!” “Sure...” Monochrome took in her face, how her eyes gleamed with some form of excitement at the sight before her. No surprise, though. She used to collect ribbons and trophies herself. Their ribbons, regardless of how they won them, just showed her that her kid had managed to follow her hoofsteps in some way. The artwork that won them in the first place probably didn’t matter much to her. That’s what their mind reasoned, at least. “Pft, of course Tank is the very first picture here! You always did like drawing the little guy~” Rainbow snickered, taking in a faded sketch of the turtle. That was true. But Monochrome was familiar with this piece in particular. It was done in their last year of elementary, when they were ten years old and their art skills were still in their earlier stages. With their current experience, Monochrome could now see that the shading values in the sketch weren’t very prominent and some lines were messy. But the effort was clear. They had been given an opportunity to choose an animal to draw for an art project, and they had jumped on the chance to draw their best friend. Though they also remembered how their younger self had left out Tanks limbs, just so he’d be easier to draw (though what beginner artist hadn’t done something similar at least once?) This was probably the oldest one they had chosen to frame up, and Monochrome felt no shame looking at such old art. Catching flaws they hadn't noticed when they first had drawn the piece only proved how much they had grown as an artist since then. But as they stared at the sketch, aware of their mother’s presence beside them, they were reminded of the second half of the memory tied to it. Their teacher had thought that it’d be fun to hold a mini contest - to let the class vote on their favorite drawing on presentation day and even invite parents to attend the class for the viewing. Their mother Daring had caught a bad cold and couldn’t attend at the time, so naturally, Rainbow Dash had been the only one left. Despite having just returned from one of her missions, Rainbow had promised to go. Monochrome had looked forward to showing off a special drawing of their mother’s pet, not only to the class, but to her as well. ...though when she didn’t show, Monochrome only found out upon returning home that their mother - while she was out that morning - had gotten caught up in a run-in with the Wonderbolt’s captain, Spitfire. Whatever the two had managed to catch up on that day, Rainbow had...lost track of time. ‘She was never good at handling distractions…especially when tired. Guess that’s where Ven gets his clumsiness from.’ The thought was meant to be half-hearted. A distraction. It had been years since that time. And yet, remembering it now was making them even more aware of her presence, and the feelings she brought. ‘Well this isn’t helping.’ “WHOA-HOA, what’s this?” Rainbow Dash was now focused on the next framed image, one Monochrome knew they had done with graphite pencils, if the crisper shading and details didn’t give it away. Monochrome had been fourteen, and they remembered their early high school art project theme; heroes. There in the image, Daring Do stood alone at the top of a cliff, her dark hair billowing while she outstretched her wings. An image of strength, and one they were personally fond of for obvious reasons. Looking at the image again, Monochrome wouldn’t have minded having ‘Valor Wind’ standing alongside Equestria’s most underappreciated hero. But at the time, Venture Gale hadn’t even joined Rainbow Dash on her missions yet; not until two years later, in fact. “How come I’ve never seen this one before?” Rainbow Dash crossed her arms, jokingly shooting Monochrome a judging look despite the smirk on her muzzle. “Oh I see how it is! You know, if you wanted Spectrum Storm to pose for a drawing, all you had to do was ask!” “...I did.” Rainbow’s grin fell immediately, a look of surprise and puzzlement replacing it. Monochrome winced. They hadn’t meant for that to come out as harsh as it did. “Huh? Wait, when?” Monochrome paused, letting themself actually choose their words for once. Yet another memory association uncovered; how the Heroes Project was originally going to be a surprise tribute for both mothers’ adventure identities. “When I was planning this piece. You just...had trouble focusing.” Monochrome quietly thought back on their mother’s inability to simply stand still. Which, as annoying as it was, was understandable in hindsight. Not everyone could stand or pose for a set period of time. But it was Rainbow’s attitude at the time that they remembered; the way she whined about wanting Daring to take her place, and the moment Venture Gale came home with a new game, Rainbow had perked back up from her hunched over state. 'Inconspicuously' moving towards the door, she had reminded Monochrome that Daring would be a "waaaay" better suited model than her. Afterwards she rushed out of the room without even waiting for an answer. After that, they just couldn’t get the right look or feeling down for “Spectrum”, and in the end Monochrome had given up and had chosen to stick with a Daring Do tribute. Frustration and that newfound blooming seed of jealousy probably didn’t help with the change of heart. Recreations with Venture just always seemed to be more fun for her. Her preference. “Oh…” Rainbow became quiet, looking down and rubbing her foreleg. Not knowing what else to say, Monochrome chose to leave Rainbow in her awkward silence. They focused instead on their artwork, hoping they could maybe find something different to talk or at least think about. Taking in this piece, Monochrome was reminded of how they really did used to enjoy reading their mother Daring’s work. From her Daring Do series to her Spectrum Storm sequel, the books had always been full of empowerment and adventure with a captivating writing style Monochrome could always recognize. But ever since “Valor Wind” made his debut, and Mo’s not-so-pleasant feelings arose...well, the last three books their mother had published - first prints she had joyfully gifted to them - were still sitting on their shelf, untouched. Monochrome couldn’t bring themself to, and it wasn’t even out of spite at this point. They genuinely had made various efforts to read the volumes, for the sake of supporting their mother’s hobby, but...doing so stirred up those unpleasant emotions, feeding a fire that only pushed them deeper into their own pool of insecurities and bitterness. And it frustrated them - it really did - that these things had to make them feel this way. This was their mother’s passionate work about their own family. Yet for the sake of their own emotional and mental wellbeing - even if it meant being out of the loop when it came to their brother's experiences out there- Monochrome had no choice but to lie about keeping up with Daring’s work. They avoided retellings of the adventures altogether. Now the pegasus could barely look at the covers of their mother's unread books without feeling a knot of guilt. ‘Alright, this was a bad idea. I get it. Everything has a negative connection to her, apparently.’ Monochrome searched their brain, ready to change the subject or at least find something else for their mother to focus on. Just as they were opening their mouth, they noticed Rainbow’s eyebrows shoot up, something further into the hall gaining her full attention. “Wait isn’t that…?” She trotted over a few frames down to a different art piece. Monochrome couldn't help but silently follow, curious. They never imagined their mother recognizing any of these pieces, with how much she had missed over the years. So after tracing the mare’s gaze to the exact image that was captivating her, Monochrome came to an abrupt halt at the sight. ‘Oh.’ It was a striking piece, if they could say so themself. Their first attempt at mixed media. Using charcoal and chalk pastels, their twelve-year-old self had deviated from drawing from life and drew from their imagination instead. So staring back at the two of them was a Timberwolf, posed elegantly with dark, strong tones to highlight its ferocity. But unlike a normal Timberwolf, it was spring-inspired. The beast’s branches was adorned with various glowing flowers, giving it a hauntingly beautiful look. Monochrome remembered how excited they were of the concept, pouring their heart into the piece a little each day. At the time, it had been one of their best and proudest works. And it still was. The blue ribbon hanging from the pictures corner said enough. And yet, right now, remembering that day brought back a hollow feeling in their chest. For once, Rainbow Dash wasn’t grinning, or speaking with unbridled confidence. As she spoke, her voice was strangely soft and pensive. “I remember this one...middle school, right? This was the drawing you entered into your first art show. When you gained your cutie mark.” Rainbow became quiet again, staring at the artwork. It would take a moment longer before she would turn to Monochrome, a regretful look on her face. “I...wish I could’ve been there, kiddo. Really. What I would’ve given to see you earn your mark that day.” Monochrome averted their gaze, an ache they had worked years to will away beginning to rise back from the depths Things had taken an abrupt, dangerous turn in Southern Equestria. And the morning of the show, Rainbow had received the news. “You were busy.” Monochrome murmured. They tried, and failed, to think of more to say. What else was there to say? Even if they had their doubts on just how much their mother Daring exaggerated in her books, they were aware of their mothers’ serious line of work. That’s why they had looked up to their parents, especially Rainbow Dash, in the first place. Maybe back then it was harder to grasp, but as an adult, they had an understanding. But that hadn’t prevented the damage. For the longest time, Monochrome had thought it was feeling forgotten that had damaged them and their relationship with their mother. But as they stood there, they realized it wasn’t just that. It was feeling forgettable. It was being in the background, where none of the things they enjoyed seemed to matter. It was feeling like a fleeting experience, easy to replace with something more interesting than they were; an adventurous life. Ponies who were far more similar to her. And even if it wasn't entirely their mother's fault that they had this complex - growing up a quiet, introverted child had made socialization harder after all - she had without a doubt contributed greatly to it. Art had always been a part of them. It wasn’t just a fun hobby turned into a job. It was also self-expression, used to convey the things that they was passionate about and the things that were important to them. So if there was no one to receive and respond with equal fervor, if the one pony they wanted to convey these things to felt disinterested and absent - then...what kind of existence was that, keeping these things to themself? ‘A lonely one.’ Sure, Rainbow made short-lived attempts at asking about their work and would give her compliments. But after everything, how was Monochrome supposed to believe she had any ounce of genuine interest in what they loved? In them. Words bubbled up to Monochrome’s mouth before they could even stop them. “I always wanted to share this part of my life with you.” The words came out soft. And no matter how much they felt like more had to be said, they just couldn’t find the words. Unable to meet Rainbow’s gaze, Monochrome kept their eyes locked on their art. They could feel her eyes on them, and soon, Monochrome regretted even speaking. Then they felt something softly brush over their back, followed by the warmth of a body pressing into them. It tore Mo’s attention away, and there, they took in the sight of their mother, staring guiltily at them. “I really missed a lot, huh...I’m really sorry kiddo” She sighed, withdrawing her wing. “I know you’re a workaholic like me, and you love your alone time. I always try to give you your space and stuff, but...it’s been forever since we’ve actually done anything together. We barely get to see each other anymore.” A red hue came over Rainbow’s face, and she ducked her head while rubbing her neck. “Look, I’m not any good with words-” ‘... so that’s where I get it from-’ “-but I just hope we can...hang more? Like, maybe you can drop by more! When you can? I know Ven’s been missing you too.” “Is...that why you came by today?” Rainbow blinked. “Huh?” Monochrome shifted in place. “You said earlier that you just wanted to visit, but...you’re kind of a bad liar, mom. No offense.” “Oh.” Rainbow nervously laughed, awkwardly rubbing her hooves together. “Aaactually, um...your mom kind of told me that you and Skychaser aren’t a thing anymore. So I wanted to check up on you? You know, without making it weird! But I was hoping I could convince you to join us when you’re not working. Cause I mean...it could help. Maybe?” It was surprising, to say the least. Rainbow was very obviously embarrassed talking about any of this. Monochrome had never seen their mom this awkward before. But there was some sort of opening here. Monochrome just had to find it. “I’m fine. My friendship with Sky is going to be okay.” A pause. “...I’ll be busy for at least another week or two. I’m a little behind. But...if you guys are still around after I catch up on my commissions, I’ll see if I can come over.” Rainbow Dash perked up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. With a joyous laugh she zoomed up into the air, doing an aerial spin. “WHOO! Sounds awesome to me!” Still loud as ever....but Monochrome was willing to start adapting. Their ear then twitched, catching a faint sound behind them. Something like slow scratching. The pegasus knew who they’d see before they even turned around. Rainbow, too, seemed to notice the extra presence and gasped dramatically. “TANK!!” At the sight of his old caretaker, Monochrome watched as Tank’s mouth widened into a radiant gummy grin, his eyes practically shining with glee. The very sight struck Mo, knowing just how much Tank loved their mom. Both Rainbow and Monochrome simultaneously moved to meet the slow turtle. While Monochrome picked Tank up and cradled him, Rainbow lowered her hooves back down to the floor. “It’s so great to see you, buddy!” the mare exclaimed, trotting closer to him. Tank was already stretching his neck forward in Monochrome’s arms, opening his mouth to let out a cheerful little turtle-grunt in return. With a grin as wide as her little friend’s, Rainbow lowered her head and met Tank’s snout with her own in an affectionate nose boop. It was one of many that they had shared in the past, even before Monochrome was born. Monochrome watched the scene with a small sense of wonder, letting the two have their moment. Rainbow was happily asking the tortoise a variety of questions, and Tank’s turtle-grunts and squeaks responded to her with a matching energy. The sight of Tank’s happiness with their mother had Monochrome’s gaze softening, a gentle smile forming on their muzzle. It was true that Monochrome and Rainbow were barely anything alike. In personality, in interests. But Monochrome now realized that there was one single thing that they did share. Their mutual love for Tank. There was a chance it was the only thing that connected them and made them alike in any way. But maybe...maybe that was a good enough place to start than anything. Not just for their own benefit, but Tank’s as well. “Hey mom. I may be busy...but how about letting Tank stay with you guys? You know, until he needs to hibernate next week.” Both Tank and Rainbow Dash looked up at the pale pegasus, both equally caught off guard. “Wait, really?” Mo nodded. “Yeah. You and I aren’t the only ones who haven’t seen each other much. Tank deserves some one-on-one time with you, don’t you think? It’s been a while.” Rainbow and Tank exchanged glances. It didn’t take long for a grin to break back out on their mother’s face. Tank’s smile was taking a tad bit longer to form. “You know what? That’s a great idea! It could be like old times, buddy! You and me and some racing and Spectrum Storm books! What d’you say?” Tank nodded as quickly and eagerly as he could. Monochrome couldn’t hold back their chuckle. Of course he’d be on board. “Awesome!” Rainbow looked back over at her kid, already brimming with excitement. “Where’s Tank’s stuff? I can totally pack everything in a heartbeat!” “Everything’s in my room.” Monochrome motioned their head further into the hallway. “Last door on the left. You can find a travel bag in my closet-” “GOT IT!” With a burst of wind and a rainbow trail, their mother was dashing down the hall and into the bedroom. The sound of rummaging could be heard even from down the hall, and Monochrome prayed she wouldn’t somehow make a mess of their room. Feeling a nudge at their chest, Monochrome returned their attention to the turtle in their arms. There was a glimmer to his green eyes, and Mo easily recognized it as a mix of pride and gratitude. “You’re welcome, buddy.” Monochrome murmured, smiling down at him. “I know I’ve been the one taking you to your hibernation spot for years...but just this once, I think it’s her turn to read you your bedtime story.” Guilt pinched at their stomach. “I guess I could be there too...but I don’t think I’m ready to be alone with her like that. Without you.” Monochrome frowned, their eyebrows drawing back. “Unless you need me there, that is. Then-” Tank slowly slid one of his arms out of his shell and gently laid his foot on Monochrome’s arm. He shone that crinkly smile up at them, and Mo knew he understood. The relief eased their worried mind. Mo deeply exhaled the rest of the worries out. “Thanks Tank...now then. Are you going to behave?” Tank paused, as if taking a moment to think about it, before smiling serenely and shaking his head. Monochrome’s own eyes crinkled in amusement and fondness. “Good.” With that, Monochrome placed a loving peck on top of his head, and it only took a few seconds longer before their mother was zipping back up to them, the travel bag tossed over her shoulder. “Alright, got Mr. Squeaks, you bed, your ‘copter and goggles...that should be everything!” Flying down to Monochrome’s level, Rainbow Dash gave her kid a curious look. “Hey, you sure you don’t want to come too, Chromey? You could stay in your old room for a while and do your work over at our place! We won’t bother you! I mean, it’ll be kinda lonely here by yourself, won’t it?”   Monochorme resisted a wince. They hadn’t really thought about the extra level of silence that’d exist without Tank being there. But it was like they had told Tank; they weren’t ready to move that fast. And they had other valid reasons. “I think I’d be able to concentrate better here. Besides, you know how my room gets cold and drafty now during the winter. It’s better to just keep my door closed.” “Well, if you say so!” With Tank in arm, Monochrome flapped their wings and joined Rainbow in moving towards the door. As their mother moved to open it, Monochrome took the chance to gently nuzzle Tank’s head. The realization that this was an early hibernation-send off was beginning to settle in, and that familiar ball of emotion was beginning to form within their chest. “I’ll see you in spring, Tank.” They whispered softly, only loud enough for him to hear. With a throaty noise in response, Tank affectionately rubbed his cheek against Monochrome’s. If it weren’t for Rainbow’s presence, Mo would have allowed their emotions to seep out. Thankfully, practice over the years had brought them enough control. ‘Yet somehow, this goodbye feels worse than every other one’ When their mother spun around and held out her forelegs with a smile, Monochrome carefully handed Tank over, moving their head every which way to make sure he was being held securely. With a sigh, Monochrome turned their attention back to their mother. “Don’t forget your copy of his favorite Daring Do book when he hibernates. You know he can’t-” “-fall asleep without it.” Rainbow finished in unison with Monochrome. The mare let out a snicker and Mo, surprisingly, felt the corner of their mouth pull up. “Right.” “Trust me, Chromey, I won’t!” Rainbow Dash smirked. “I’ll see you later then, pal! Don’t work yourself too hard!” “I’ll try not to.” With one last beam, Rainbow turned and began flying out the door. Monochrome followed her up to their doorway and hovered there as they saw the two off. It was then that the pegasus noticed a certain turtle head poke up over their mother’s shoulder, smiling at them. Mo practically felt their heart clench as Tank gave a little wave with his foot over Rainbow’s arm. Monochrome made sure to wave back, until neither of them were visible anymore. Monochrome retreated back into their house, letting out a heavy sigh as the stresses of that whole exchange finally caught up with them. They knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, Monochrome had barely even scratched the surface of things. There was certainly still a long way to go before they could find the right words - and well...the courage - to convey all the things they had kept away. But hey...this was a start.

[loveleo-archive]

Hey for the art trade thing it might be useful to say for like writing how many words would equal how much money (like in a normal commission). Idk I just thought it would be useful for people to know how much quantity (is that the right word) they would need to be able to trade 4 your lovely art. Sorry if this makes no sense 💙

Hi there, anon! Thank you very much for the suggestion! It does make sense!

I actually thought of doing this, but my only issue here is some people’s strength is not in length but in detail to words or poignancy. Also, some stories might not lend themselves to a certain length! It could just be me, but I might feel discouraged to see a number. However, this is a good point and I do appreciate you taking the time to write this to me!

I’ll put in a rough, general estimate if people would like, but I’ll always consider the person’s proposal when they email me or message me if they feel they cannot meet the amount I post.

For now I’ll say that the minimum amount of words for an art trade will be (for prose) a drabble (100 words). That will be a cleaned up rough sketch* with some light monochrome shading.

After that, 125 words will be equal to about a dollar, though this can always be talked about!

I really hope this clears things up and I will put a link to this post on my commissions page until I devise a more concrete system!

Anon, I really appreciate the time you took to type this out and I hope that you’re having a marvelous day/night/time~!

~ Luce / @loveleocadia

*the rough sketch on my commissions page is not cleaned up. I will probably put in new graphics on my commissions page soon as I have been creating more art as of late that fits into the categories to showcase.

[titoslondon-blog]

New Post has been published on Titos London

#Blog New Post has been published on http://www.titoslondon.co.uk/careers-in-fashion-masaba-gupta-on-harnessing-the-power-of-youth/

Careers in fashion: Masaba Gupta on harnessing the power of youth

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Masaba Gupta is a bit of a firecracker—she’s not afraid to print what’s on her mind. What’s more is that she’s sure of having caught the pulse of the moment and the fact that everything she makes will translate into sales. When asked how can an upcoming designer use the power of youth to their advantage, Gupta is candid in her response: “By being honest,” she simply lays it down.

The designer began her journey in 2009 with Lakmé Fashion Week’s prized Gen Next spot. She’s on the latest Forbes 30 under 30 list, regularly dresses the likes of Kareena Kapoor Khan, Alia Bhatt and Sonam Kapoor, and has no plans to slow down. “I’m never not working. If I am not at work, I am talking to a stylist or an actor or an agent for something or the other,” she says. But how did the 28-year-old achieve all that in less than a decade?

Gupta categorises her eponymous brand that’s best known for its wild use of colour and eye-grabbing prints under ‘kitsch pop’. “It’s independent, easy, forward thinking,” she says. She now boasts three stores in the country and sells online. But her biggest strength lies in understanding and catering to the market several designers have desperately attempted to woo—the youth. “I design for girls like me, I go to the same places to eat drink as these girls and I have the same problems as them, so I am literally living their life and designing for that life,” says.

Aside from ready-to-wear, and a fresh dive into festive and occasion wear, Gupta also has a line of accessories that includes diaries with original design sketches, travel pillows, trays, socks and even custom gifting options for weddings. She is smart not alienate the customer that forms her strong fan base. Far be it from Gupta to undermine the power of small fashion goods. “The fact is that there are young girls who can’t afford me but they should feel like they own a part of my label anyway. It’s just to keep them from being intimidated. Also, print is the easiest thing to translate onto everything, so why not,” she says.

From cameras to candies and firecrackers, Gupta has made a mark with her unique sensibility. Vogue spoke to the designer about making it big, getting ripped off and finding her own tune.

What was your first ever runway show? What were your learnings from it? That would be my graduation show at my college. My learning was whatever can go wrong, will go wrong anyway; and chances are it will go wrong on your biggest day.

When starting off a career in design, did you have a vision for yourself? No, it’s more to do with survival each day at that stage because you are still testing waters.

At what point did you realise you were going from a known label to one that was recognised all across the country? I was in Lajpat Nagar in Delhi when I saw my fakes at a market.

You had one of the first Instagram shows in the country; how did you plan that? We didn’t plan it. We had this idea, and my friend Joy Dutta the photographer, who is no more, sat down and said let’s make it happen. So, we shot it like a regular show and sat down in real time uploading it—and then the WiFi died for a few minutes. It wasn’t planned at all, but it was one of our bestselling collections!

You have a large fan base of young girls—how do you create clothes for that audience while also catering to a larger more varied audience? It’s a mix, because I have my mum and her friends who also love my clothes and give me feedback. I am a little bit of an old soul and my style is fun, but some days I only wear monochrome with pearls and drink whisky. Rest of the time I am doing shots and downing pizza. That’s exactly how I design… a little bit of refinement and a little bit wild and fun.

What role does social media play in the growth of brand? Everything today. Sadly, it’s very misused. Visibility on social media is of key importance, but it depends from brand to brand.

How important is it for you to react to current events, to continue having a dialogue with your audience? I react to what’s relevant to me and what I can add to. Like I find that talking about body confidence and just regular girl issues is up my alley, and I know what I say will be heard and maybe even save a life, so I constantly talk about it. But if you ask me to comment about Rahul Gandhi just to join a bandwagon, I won’t.

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Masaba Gupta at Lakmé Fashion Week winter/festive 2015

How important is it to have your own voice and aesthetic reflect on your social media? Ask those 200 designers who think its okay to copy other designers and call it their invention. I think very, very few people have an individual aesthetic. You can and you will get lost if you don’t stick out of the crowd because it is the easiest thing to have mistaken identities in fashion.

What is your advice to the new crop of designers? Please stop saying you are ‘overwhelmed’ to be acknowledged and featured in the paper when you’ve paid yourself for an article on the front page of a newspaper and written the caption yourself. We all know media net exists; I know the cost too. Think ahead, you will have to find a plan beyond the first showcase.

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Masaba at Lakmé Fashion Week summer/resort 2016

What are the things you stay away from while using social media? Nothing really… haven’t thought about it… but maybe nudity?

What are the benefits of having your own store versus selling online? You need people to touch and feel clothes. Also in India, people need the experience and shopping for them is an event. Online is great for the smaller towns where you can’t reach sometimes.

How much does a celebrity spotted in your design affect sales? There’s a huge success rate [when a celebrity sports your design] but it depends who wears it. Sonam, Alia and Shilpa can create an online shopping crisis overnight when they wear us, which is great.

Have you ever resisted change? No, but I am not in love with it either.

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Masaba at Lakmé Fashion Week winter/festive 2017

This article is part of our Careers in Fashion series which will get fashion enthusiasts advice, guidance and inspiration from the biggest names in the fashion industry

The post Careers in fashion: Masaba Gupta on harnessing the power of youth appeared first on VOGUE India.

[angrycollectordaze-me-blog]

The Tempera paintings

下面为大家整理一篇优秀的essay代写范文- The Tempera paintings，供大家参考学习，这篇论文讨论了坦培拉绘画。在西方，真正意义上的现代油画技法产生自文艺复兴时期，在16世纪以后逐步发展成熟，至今不过五百年的历史。而在此之前，经过漫长的历史发展，湿壁画、干壁画、坦培拉绘画以及坦培拉与油画混合技法，都占据了很长阶段的历史舞台。坦培拉，作为一种古典油画技法，其英文名为“Tempera”，源于古意大利语，意为“调和”、“搅拌”。后来泛指一切由水溶性、胶性颜料及结合剂组成的绘画。在如今，现代画家并非只使用传统的鸡蛋乳液，亦可加入酪素乳液、甲基纤维素乳液做为媒介。

In the west, modern oil painting techniques in the true sense came into being during the Renaissance and gradually matured after the 16th century, with a history of only 500 years. Before that, after a long history of development, fresco, dry fresco, tempera painting and tempera and oil painting mixed techniques, have occupied a long stage of the historical stage. Tempera, a classical oil painting technique, is known in English as the Tempera, an ancient Italian word meaning to "blend" or "stir." Later, it refers to all paintings composed of water-soluble, gelatinous pigments and binders. In China, it is often translated as dampera, eggpera and tempera. Nowadays, modern painters do not only use traditional egg emulsion, but also can add casein emulsion and methyl cellulose emulsion as the media, so I think transliteration is more appropriate.

Of traditional opera painting techniques originally from one thousand years ago in ancient Greece, in around the 13th century in Italy, and in the 14 and 15 centuries developed a technique combined with oil mixed, and the hybrid techniques than water temple opera in the painting on the procedures and methods more flexible, can draw on the traditional wood, also can create cloth opera, because of the media agent containing oil and resin composition, enhances the object space form of realism, this technique commonly known as classical multilayer transparent painting. In the 17th century, artist Rubens will titian painted directly with 15 th-century jan van eck hybrid techniques combined strengths, and developed the high liquidity and shape of resin oil paint, gradually replaced the past of oil, water paint, he was in to Spain to own villas, Flemish techniques to the painter, also affects the contemporaneous Rembrandt and 18th and 19th centuries Jacques Louis, Angle, famous master, dost thou since then, oily vera's gradually evolved into pure oil painting, also is our today's direct representations. Thus it can be seen that although the methods of traditional tempera and modern oil painting are different, they are in the same line, and we can add development and innovation.

Classical tempera method, according to a certain proportion of chalk powder, rabbit glue, to make the bottom of the tempera coating, in the smooth and delicate board layer by layer coating brush, and then polished, make the tempera drawing board smooth, can absorb. The papers are a bit similar to the traditional Chinese claborate-style painting method, in order to avoid the dirty vera's sketchpad, realize transparent painting, generally do not take direct paint: the author on the paper first, draw a relatively complete sketch line art depicting characters in this step, the line of things should be accurate in place, as a complete line of draft, avoid further transfer to modify, again will complete by the handmade rubbing to vera's sketchpad above, can use Chinese ink, Ye Jin pen draws the outline of contour line, then draw the gray shades as monochromatic sketches, the structure of the manuscript, projection is accurate, formal coloring for the next step.

Before for classical translucent color, brush with wool to tan vera's sketchpad to uniform besmear again water, thin and uniform, then according to depict objects with egg liquid, toner modulation type, dip in with thin cancel the pen color, still modeled on monochrome sketch method of line, color shape, step by step to make the color relations, complete the translucent painting, this is the traditional opera painting method.

In the middle ages, tempera painting technique was the main way of depicting holy portraits and frescoes, but it gradually declined after the Renaissance. In the continuous development, tempera paintings can be mixed with water or oil, which can be divided into two categories: water-based materials and oil-based materials. The painter can freely distribute the proportion. If there is much water, the strokes will be smooth and the color is transparent, which is convenient for painting details. If oil is more than color saturation, and suitable for long-term preservation, easy to depict large ICONS, murals. The materials and methods used are different from other paintings, so the preservation time is much longer than other painting materials, the unique emulsion film will not change with time yellow, dark, the overall color saturation and moist, can not be aging for thousands of years.

Due to the ancient western tempera paintings mostly serve for religion, creating a large number of images of the virgin, often using gold and silver foil in the painting process, such a single and rigid theme, high cost, gradually covered by modern techniques. Only constant development have a new progress, recently, the temple to pella this ancient painting and painters, klimt Austrian artists in the 19th century to the traditional temple pella painting techniques to innovation, add gold foil in modern painting subjects, create a colorful and have strong artistic adornment effect, make you occupy a unique position in the history of art.

Compared with other painting forms, tempera painting has the characteristics of rapid drying and conjunctiva, and the paint is usually dried out at the very moment of painting, which greatly saves the painter's creation time, improves the convenience, and can be repeatedly painted in a short time, and the picture effect is bright and transparent. This characteristic is well suited to precision painting, where the most original and fascinating lines are kept in the frame without having to wait too long or worry about getting dirty, and modern paintings that require a lot of repetition are also dependent on tempera's technique.

At the same time, because tempera USES emulsion and pigment toner to harmonize, its colors map to each other, the luster is soft, make the picture does not have a strong impact, give the viewer a kind of cordial, natural feeling, in line with the visual aesthetic interest. Some of the transparent luster of tamperat also makes it unique in oil painting and watercolor pigments. The painter does not need to worry about the repeated strokes to make the color become turdiness and precipitation, and the picture becomes dark. On the contrary, the more transparent painting layers, the softer and more accessible the work. Like painting the save the life of around five hundred, if techniques, pigment is not suitable but also can shorten life span, can only stay in two hundred and thirty, even change color, fall off in a few years, beautiful works can't keep it is a shame, but Tanzania vera's work can be painted hundreds of years, is advantageous to the long-term preservation of collectors, and this is vera's painting unique charm.

Andrew wise, one of the great American painters of the 20th century, was a keen user of the tempera technique. His realism in painting style, the pursuit of modernism, works were used in the egg color, watercolor medium for artistic creation, such as all kinds of materials use vera's techniques for large size drawing, with egg white, powder mixed with glue, the method of using jotham pella painting layer mask to dye, tend to be painted in a month, Andrew wyeth's depiction of the characters and scenery, from his home state of Pennsylvania Richards's town, and Cushing, Maine town, such as Andrew said: "I like to slowly draw in the studio, I think the more so the more close to the essence of painting... If a tempera succeeds, it produces a sense of strength and firmness that nothing else can match, and a quality I like that belongs only to tempera's metaphor. Through this ancient traditional techniques and materials, combined with modern painting species and material techniques, wise created realistic artistic works, reflecting the pursuit of modernist emotion.

Nowadays, many modern painters are still attached to the creation charm of tamperat. In such an era of industrial information, the pursuit of speed makes artists no longer blindly choose traditional methods. The addition of modern painting language helps tempera's artistic expression techniques develop into diversification. Artists in the process of painting can be more increase the use of flat pen, YuanTouBi, don't blindly following classical opera painting method row line slowly, but according to depict objects texture, the be fond of painting is to use flexibly, it enriches the temple pella painting materials and techniques, expand the performance of traditional painting space, on the basis of inheriting the traditional painting, make the work of the new era have contemporary feeling.

In China, some painters try to combine tempera and oil painting techniques between material language, modeling language and color language to form innovative "modern tempera painting". Perhaps at present, tempera art is not suitable for short-term sketching, but is very suitable for the expression of subjective will. Professor cao jigang of the central academy of fine arts, who has deep research on this aspect, chose tempera as the material of classical oil painting to reflect his feelings on Oriental connotation. He blurred the landscape in his eyes with ink painting on the cloth surface, which looked and felt like an ink painting. The transparent traces on the drawing board were like the traces left by ink infiltration and halo. A large number of ink traces flowed down, leaving only a kind of residual image, but it could reflect the magnificent momentum of Chinese landscape painting. Cao jigang not only retained tempera's quiet, introversion and delicate shape, but also kept the visual and tactile effect from floating on the surface. He let the fresh immersion of the pigment into the picture, expressing the quality of his aesthetic spirit of ancient China. No matter what kind of painting a painter chooses, he or she should attach his or her own creative intention to the materials under his or her hands, so that viewers can appreciate the artist's spiritual outlook and aesthetic interest. Painter of the new era, the mood for classical has had the very big change, like the past of that kind of harmonious relationship between human and nature was gone, but the artistic creation continues, in vera's study should be followed in the traditional technique, from compliance to development, from development to the innovation, new classical language structure, in the modern reflect her complete artistic feelings, in the world of today's industrialization, materialized to generate new relationships.

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[dreamoca]

Assignment 3 Review

Assessment review

Project: Visual properties

“ However, the shadow is still not quite right” After I saw the drawing again, I actually realise that the shadows were not right but I am straggling with drawing from imagination and details like that. I totally understand the point when explain but I cannot use it when I am drawing. This is not only a problem with shadows but also with perspectives and relative sizes. 

“ yellow, blue and black image is a very strong and striking graphic, similar to the ‘Exorcist’ poster but with a great mood and atmosphere” It is good to hear this, that was the final pieces for this exercise. I worked on it for a very long time and I did it in several stages. That is the reason I did not have it chronologically. One of the problems with this image was the shadows and the person in the left right corner. 

Project: Abstract illustration

“ This did not really follow the exercise which gave you specific artists, but you attached a link to hear the music you worked from” This is one of those things that happen when I do not want to do something. I read abstract and music and I got totally defensive... I will give it another tried. 

Project: Diagrammatic illustration

“Your final artwork is a poster-style piece. Although it has not really become a set of stage-by-stage instructions as requested, the individual drawings and colour are very good, and the layout and text are clear and well-designed.“ This is very generous. Looking back, I lost track of what I was doing, I tried to plan how the final pieces were going to look but I could not picture it so, at the end, the final work was disappointing. This is another example of doing my thing instead of following the exercise... 

Project: Viewpoint

“ used ‘found’ photographs from Instagram rather than pictures you took.” I took some pictures but they were simple and I agree I did not use it for the project. intermediately, I started to associate things and one thing took me to another... “ Your finished paintings look very good and have a strong sense of narrative” It is really good to hear this, sometimes is difficult to know what other people feel and because my drawing is very poor, sometimes I am not sure if is any good.

 “You need to document how big they are and the materials (Oils, acrylics??) more.” At this point, my eye was really bad and I used the computer to draw this. The computer allows me to zoon so I can draw. I used the tablet. I think when the eye gets better I might continuous using the table because I can paint on the train but I enjoy using traditional methods. 

Project: Client Visuals

“You chose a blue monochrome illustration and a film poster. Again the blog post is not clearly arranged, and you do not seem to follow the exercise which asks you to reduce the images to simple line visuals. Maybe you could look at this again and maybe reorganise the post so it reads more clearly.“ I think I have done this before. The research and the material I used for the exercise are different. I will go back to this exercise again. 

Project: Creating mock-ups

“The Real Taste of Spain’ mock-up is an excellent painting” I have so many problems doing this, I tried to do it faster and I damage the back, I did know how to fix the problem. What I tried to say is important to finish what you started before you give up. By the way, this is another example of a drawing that I have tones of problems creating the right proportions among elements... 

Feedback on assignment

“The top poster with the Photoshopped photograph does not have the graphic strength of the blue and yellow poster, which also has more text incorporated into the design which shows you organizing text information well” This is the exact opposite of the previous one. I give up! I did not like the yellow one because I wanted to elaborate the jazz player more but the eye was very painful and the other one was easy to do... 

Sketchbooks

“ Your sketchbook work is good; it would be better to see more sketching and thumbnails working towards finished ideas. Your book cover is a very good painting, it would be good to see how you complete a finished piece of work through stages more” I do NOT have a traditional sketchbook. I used a piece of paper or something that I have at hand, sometimes I used the tablet... Now, with the eye problem has become more electronic. I am sorry about because with the watercolour exercise I enjoy having a sketchbook but I did it at home, on the go, it is more complicated. 

Suggested viewing/reading

As I write this, I realise that I do not know what I am interested in or the path that I want to take. This is also a bit (or a lot) disturbing giving the fact that I am studying a university degree as an adult so I suppose to know where I want to go but unfortunately for me and making my tutor life a bit harder, I have not idea where I want to go, or even if I want to go to any place.

If I need to put a list of places I want to visit, I love manga and anime (I love comic like Will Eisner too). I also love stories told by drawing... I remember the winner of the editorial award in 2016 illustration competition as it was today. It was powerful, lovely done, with taste and a message. That is something that I will love to explore.  The Boat Actually, this is quite close to my interest over the years, I have work with different organizations so, it is nice to continue the same interest in a different way. 

I like food illustration a lot. Drawing food is so much fun. I think this is another avenue I want to walk. I also like architecture, but I am not so sure I can manage the illustration of that. 

In summary

This was a much better assignment that I was expecting. I had so many problems working that I was going to give up... I am glad that I did not do it but I still worry about the eye. 

1. I need to pay more attention to the exercises so I can actually do them. 

2. Working on the problems I have can be a bit exhausting because it always seems difficult to do something without studying a lot... 

3. What I like and What I want to do should be part of the things I want to reflect.

4. Perhaps I should use only one media in this block. I had used colour pencils, perhaps I should use watercolour or photoshop