“What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals!”
--Shakespeare, before social media
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"It's more than something. It's everything."
s8e11 "Life Time"
painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on
i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol
version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao
"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting
"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting
everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE
that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes
also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with
photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life
update edit;
clock back
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Claudius/Gertrude (Hamlet)
Characters: Claudius (Hamlet), Gertrude (Hamlet)
Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, (Not Quite to Lovers), Abuse in the Background, Implications of Poison
Summary:
There lives within the very flame of love
A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it,
And nothing is at a like goodness still;
For goodness, growing to a pleurisy,
Dies in his own too-much.
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