#but now it feels more intentional / almost like watercolor! something that mixes itself into a new thing; bright and bursting w/ it all.

[swordheld]

how did u choose your username?

oh, this is a fun one!! i think i considered being swordtold at first, for that very ancient myth vibe of the sword being this narrative tool for adventure and structure and physical time, the parable being passed down through the centuries until it meddles into modern day rhetoric and ideology – a kind of fantastical tool, a spark of magic, of possibility.

i like the arc of the story of a place being physical / having it be held by time and hand alike, wearing with the years and having it become something different to each holder, each reader, each experience fantastical and individual.

having that kind of physicality to it; swordheld is the action of taking up and holding the sword yourself, choosing your own narrative, leading your own story. self-identity has always been something i struggle with (a novel concept i know, i know), so it felt right for this blog, since most of my older blogs before this one have been just me silently reblogging and never really posting anything myself, and i wanted this to be the change to that.

i've always had trouble wranging my social anxiety, esp. on the internet, and previously thought that keeping my words to myself helped keep the timeline cleaner, in a way, no messy thoughts for others to sort through, especially ones i believed no one would want to read anyway? but it never felt right, keeping myself apart from it all, esp. not in the way i so avidly enjoyed reading others' posts and additions, keeping their words close to my heart.

i wanted it to reflect that this was a space i was holding for myself? and i'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but this - this i think i got right. i love being here, on this blog, and the joy that it brings me. everyone else enjoying it too has been a wild ride that i never expected, and still surprises me, one that brings a little extra thrill to my heart whenever i think about it.

i had other urls that i liked, but i didn't want this blog to be tied directly to any of my fandom/story interests, since i wanted it to really just be a sort of archive of artistic inspiration and resource, like a little library or museum. i use them now as lil sideblogs of more niche interests now, which is rather lovely.

it hasn't always felt like it fit perfectly, the way that i'd like, but for some reason i can't think of really wanting to change it anytime soon. it feels mythic yet modern in a way that feels like puzzle pieces finally slotting into their place, something my own and inspirational to me, like a lantern i'm holding to make my way by. my own kind of light, if that makes sense – a star i know by name.

[tangibletechnomancy]

The biggest reason I've believed even before I started this project, and believe even more now, that AI art, in the long term, isn't going to be a threat to conventional art, is because they occupy different places in The Sensorium(TM).

Typing in words, and doing math, and generating, and regenerating, and digitally stitching - is a very different sensory experience than scratching at a screen with a tablet pen. Which is a different sensory experience than pushing oil paints around on a canvas. Which is a different sensory experience than watercolor, which is different from fluid art, which is different from photography, which is different from assemblage...

And hey! Whether you consciously recognize it or not, whether you're creating or just observing, the sensory experience is what makes art a Thing!

It's why I'm a mixed media artist. I will never give up my physical paints or digital illustrations for AI, I will not stop doing those until my hands well and truly crap out and I can't do them anymore, because they provide a different experience. I take my AI-generated pieces and add physical human touches to them because the variety of methods just Feels nice and well-rounded and complete.

And the more I experiment with this, the more confident I feel in the fact that the people handling AI maliciously will burn out and give up and move on to yet another attempt to do the impossible and turn the very concept of art itself into an asset they can control, because 1) I...literally saw it happen before when digital painting and illustration was just becoming widespread (and I'll probably write more on THAT later) and 2) people will ALWAYS gravitate toward other methods of creation too, because people will ALWAYS have varied needs out of art.

There is a unique kind of sensory satisfaction to abstracting what you want into a form a computer can understand, and conversing with it in both words and numbers until it gives you what you want - or, often, what you didn't know you wanted. Or in giving it a general Vibe and refining whatever it gives you until you have something you love. Or so many other approaches you could take with a computer. But when what you need to really feel like you're getting your intention across is to physically poke, cut, stack, or squish something, it can't replace that.

...which, in fact, is a argument that's been used against both AI art and digital illustration and painting, completely missing the fact that...that's not a bad thing about whatever new medium we have! That just means we have MORE tools that give us MORE kinds of satisfaction!

And I'm not saying this as some "oh well art itself will be fine so nothing else matters, what do you mean you have bills to pay, fuck your groceries, art should be about love, what kind of sellout are you to not want to die in a hole" - remember, making AI art spaces hostile to the types who would say that or worse is half of why I'm here.

What I'm saying is that resisting an emerging medium's existence, not just its misuse, for fear that something about it as a whole can and will replace something entirely different that people are always going to want, is 1) an exercise in futility, 2) almost always misguided ESPECIALLY in art, and 3) ultimately a weak stop-gap measure for dealing with any actual issues with the production of the medium or the sentiment that drives misuse.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter eleven: the end of the world

The next morning was a cold, gray, and soggy one, but Sam had no intention on returning to Louie's apartment for another round that day: she had already packed her things in the back seat and she nestled down in the front seat with her arms folded across her chest and the lapels of her jacket pulled up to her ears. She had no hood or something to cover her head but she wished for one. She didn't want to be seen. Louie himself meanwhile, locked the door behind him and he headed down the steps. She looked on at him as he rounded the front end of the car and opened the door. She sighed through her nose as he climbed into the front seat.

“You okay?” he asked her in a low voice, and she nodded her head.

“Look—I was thinking about this last night before I fell asleep, too,” he started, “neither of us mean to inflame or kick up any old wounds with anyone. We're just—fooling around, messing around, you know?”

She gazed out the window right as he said that. She had nothing to say to that.

“If either of us made you uncomfortable—and I can tell we did—we didn't mean to. I didn't mean to, and I know Alex didn't mean to, either. And for that, I want to personally apologize to you for it.”

Sam never moved from her spot in the seat next to him. She couldn't hardly stop thinking about any of what went down the night before, such that it almost brought a tear to her eye.

“Also—I, uh—” he stammered and then he cleared his throat, “—hate to tell you this, but I'm kinda out of money.”

She turned her attention over to him and frowned.

“What do you mean you're out of money?” she demanded.

“I'm out of money,” he repeated, “well, for now anyway. Remember what I said yesterday, I had enough for breakfast and a cab?”

“Oh, right, right.” She hesitated. “So what's this mean?”

“Well, I have a full tank of fuel to start with,” he stated, to which she frowned and scoffed at that.

“Louie, we're not driving back to Elsinore from here—it's too far.” She was scorn.

“But the train already left, though,” he pointed out. “It's kind of overkill to fly on down to Elsinore, too.”

She sighed through her nose again.

“Don't really feel like driving through the valley, either,” he added.

“Yeah, it's boring as hell,” she said in a soft voice.

“Boring as hell and still hot as fuck, too,” he said, “at least here we have a bit of leeway with the San Francisco fog. Seven hours of nothin'.” He paused for a second. “We could take the coast.”

“That's longer, though,” she pointed out.

“Nicer, though,” he insisted.

“True. It's way nicer, actually.”

“Bet you've missed the Pacific Coast, too,” he said.

“I have—it's one of the many things I haven't been able to do like at all. Especially when I was growing up out here.”

“Really?” Louie was genuinely taken aback by that.

“Yeah.”

“Well, let's—” He set his hand on the ignition key and turned it. “Let's.”

Sam strapped herself in and Louie shook his head of hair about a bit.

“One thing I really wanted to do with Zelda,” he started again as he pulled on the parking lever, “when we were together was go on a road trip with her somewhere. I always considered driving from Providence down to some place like D.C., or go all the way down to like West Virginia. The two of us on a trip together and just hanging out together.”

“What kept you from doing it?” she asked him.

“Touring and making albums—and dealing with record company horse shit in her case—and in my case it was living a double life. There was no way I could do it, not with my other life in full swing.”

They pulled ahead and began up the block, around the cemetery and towards the block on the other side.

“So—I haven't really taken the Pacific Coast Highway much from my place so just kind of—like—bear with me here,” he sputtered.

“It's okay, it's okay.”

Louie glanced over at her at one point as they rolled up to a stoplight.

“You know—and I'm being perfectly honest with you here, Sam—I'm a little intimidated by you,” he confessed.

“You?” she asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he replied with a shake of his head, “but there's just something about you that completely intimidates me. Like it's hard for me to maintain composure when I'm near you.”

“There's no reason to be, though,” she promised him.

“But I feel it anyways, though. It could be because you made a bold move in moving across the country and back again, but I can't really say for sure.”

“Funny you say that 'cause you did that,” she pointed out.

“True. But see, you weren't living a double life like I was.”

“I mean, I kinda am now,” she assured him.

“How so?”

“Joey doesn't know about Bill. He also doesn't know that I'm hanging out with you guys, either. For the record, Bill doesn't know that I'm hanging out with you guys, either. It's like a triangle of sorts with me come to think of it.”

“A delta,” said Louie.

“A delta?”

“Yeah. You know the Greek letter delta?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!”

“Apparently in the realm of science, it's symbolic of change. Like change in temperature or heat.”

“How do you know that?”

“I dunno if she's shown you this but Morgan—you know, Morgan from the Cherry Suicides—has this old chemistry textbook back at her place. She found it in the garbage believe it or not.”

“Something wrong about that,” Sam declared.

“Oh, yeah. Unless it's actually trash, books do not belong in the trash. But yeah, she found it and I just happened to prop it open one day, and I read a tidbit in a chapter about equations at one point.”

“Huh. Bill has a bunch of old books at his place—mostly old literature, but it's worth a peek, though. I keep meaning to crack them open but I'm not sure where to begin.”

The light turned green and Louie lunged ahead on the street. The clouds hung even lower over them as he merged lanes and they headed for the 880 Freeway. To the right of them was the stretch of gray waters that made up the very Bay itself.

“If you ever come back up here this way,” he started again, “you know you're in a car on the P.C.H., you've got to cross the Golden Gate Bridge at some point. There's just—something majestic about it, even if you've lived here your whole life like the five of us. Well, four of us, anyway, unless Chuck was telling a fib about where he was born. This will take us right by Santa Clara and down to the interchange in San Jose, which'll in turn take us all the way down the coastline to the City of Angels.”

Sam nodded her head and she peered out the windshield to the gray overhead. To think that the assumption with the California coast was all bright sunshine and infinite beaches: it made her laugh the more in which she thought about it.

“What's even the deal with him, anyway?” Louie asked her out of the blue.

“Who, Bill?” She looked over at him with her eyebrows knitted together and he took a glimpse over at her.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she began, “I mean, you were sitting right there when I called Chuck and told him what was going on.”

“Pff, how could I forget? But what I'm asking is—is there like a time limit with him? Like you signed a marriage contract plus a prenup but surely someone over at the school has to figure that out at some point because it's totally illegal. Setting you up like that and forcing you into something that you had no desire to get into and then threatening a whole bunch of bullshit with you like locking you in your room and forbidding you from going out and visiting people.”

“Well, when I first came out here and I spoke to Marla over the phone—you know, she's been trying to get a job and she finally did with Belinda up in Albany. But she went to the school and she told them that he was still on the payroll. He got fired, Louie, but there was some weird glitch of some sort so he still got paid and he got paid a lot of money, too. So he was able to afford that large house and care for his daughters, such that he enlisted them in a private school.”

“So he loses his paycheck, he's fucked, basically,” he followed along.

“Yeah. Unless he got something to help him out when we weren't looking, he's probably got to pull the girls out of school and sell the house.”

“And what happens to you if and when that happens?” he asked her.

“I—” She froze. Louie glanced over at her with his eyebrows raised. “I—don't know. Oh, wait!” She snapped her fingers.

“What's that?”

“My mom's moving down to the Southland soon. Where exactly is another question, though. She might be going out to Catalina or she might be going to San Pedro, I dunno.”

“Or you can go back to Joey,” he pointed out. “You know, make things easier on your mom. It's another cross country, for sure, but I feel it'd be more beneficial to take that risk again and go with him rather than put extra pressure on your mom like that. But that's my opinion, though. You do whatever you want.”

“There should be a way to null it, too,” she added.

“Yeah, being in a car with another dude,” he joked, and that brought a laugh out of her.

Within time, signs for the interchange came into their view and Louie took the next exit which looped around and met up with the Pacific Coast Highway. Right as they matched up with the pavement, the clouds over them swirled about like the old feathers or the wisps of paint mixed into the wash for a watercolor project. She looked out to the low hills off to the right, all of them different shades of green and yellow. All of them still that rich green despite the late summer. All of them still rich dark green despite the yellow dead grass everywhere. The clouds overhead beckoned rain but at the same time waned away from the coast line.

Such a strange position to be in as was the state of California, but that pocket there, the hills that followed her and Louie all along the highway on that lengthy seven hour drive, reminded her of that special place.

The quiet place. The spot that she and Charlie had found together and the place where she and Joey visited during their final days together.

“This is almost like the precious part of California,” she noted aloud.

“Nah, the eastern Sierra is the precious part of California in my opinion,” he said. “There's something lonely and ancient about the eastern Sierra Nevadas.”

“This whole area here reminds me of a place that Charlie and I found together when they were making the Stormtroopers of Death album,” she followed up.

“Really?”

“It was like this little nook in the trees down the street from the studio,” she explained as she returned her attention to him. “We called it 'the quiet place' because you go in there and it's like completely untouched in comparison to everything else. You walk down the street and you have to duck underneath the trees as you're going in there.”

“Sounds like something you keep a secret,” he remarked.

“I told Joey about it, though,” she told him. “I imagine upstate being covered in places like that.”

“Places you go to that no one else knows about,” he followed along. “This part of California and the eastern Sierra is like that, too. Lots of nooks and crannies and what have you. Like there's a place outside of Salinas—I'll have to show it to you when we get there. It's closer to Monterey Bay, though, which means we'll have to leave this highway, though.”

“It's okay—it'll get us over to the ocean.”

“The ocean makes everything better,” he remarked.

The highway took them down past Morgan Hill and then Gilroy: at one point the road turned towards Monterey Bay; off in the distance loomed those cold dark gray waters that seemed to stretch on forever. The view enlarged as they came closer and closer to the next turn off and the 156: Louie told her it would take them to Highway 1, which would in turn take them to the place he had in mind. At that point, the clouds increased and everything grew dark despite it being almost ten o'clock in the morning.

“While we're over here, you don't mind spending a little money for breakfast, do you?” he asked her at one point.

“Not at all. I was just gonna ask you if you're hungry at all.”

He showed her a grin in response, and then he pointed out the windshield to the next sign up ahead: the town of Castroville as well as the turn off to Highway 1.

“So anyway, this place—it's over by the Salinas River, which eventually heads out to the ocean,” he explained. “When I first met Zelda, and I was waffling on if I wanted to go with her or stay with my concurrent girlfriend and our baby, I always came here. It always helped me clear my head to drive down here when the baby fell asleep and Zelda was back in Rhode Island. I remember staying down here for a full afternoon once. Like I didn't get back home until well after the sun went down. Needless to say, I almost got in trouble for that.”

She laughed at that, and he gave his long smooth hair a little toss back from his face and the side of his neck.

“And the highway will take us all the way down the coastline, too. Take us down to Big Sur and all around the coast, all the way down to San Simeon and Cambria, and then Morro Bay, and then that'll take us over to San Luis Obispo and that's where we meet up with 101 again.”

“And that'll take us all the way back to L.A., too.”

He nodded his head at that, and then Sam cleared her throat.

“I don't think I get Alex,” she confessed.

“A lot of people don't,” he assured her with a straight face.

“It's funny, he said the exact same thing to me,” she recalled. “Word for word.”

“Well, because it's true! A lot of people don't get Alex. That kid is a bundle of contradictions, many of which are not for the faint of heart. I've only known him for a few years but can confirm that, though. And what's mind blowing to me is he's completely aware of it, too. I remember the first time I got into an in-depth conversation with him a few years ago when Testament first formed and we were still Legacy. Sam, I never had such a worse headache.”

“Well, like. For example, when we were in Germany and he and I spent a whole day together—”

“And he missed the train?” he finished for her. “Chuck told me.”

“Yeah, he missed the train and he got upset with me when I tried to grab his attention and get him to come onboard. Then the fireball happened and he realized the error of his ways and we patched it up. And then, you know last night, he opened up the wound over Cliff with me.”

“The fireball happened and what exactly did he do there?”

“I put my arms around him and held him close to me,” she explained. “Wept like a baby right into my chest.”

“He probably liked to feel your chest,” he pointed out.

“What makes you think that?”

“Sam—he's nineteen, soon to be twenty. When I was nineteen, that was all I ever thought about were touching and feeling boobs and clits. We're horny bastards at that age, and I would imagine that he is especially, too. Alex is bit of a nerd—it's the whole thing about how girls don't really talk to nerds.”

“But he's a guitar player, though. I would imagine the girls getting all hot and bothered to guitar players.”

“Not Alex and not our crowds, no. He's like the thinking man's guitarist. I'm sure you've seen him before a television.”

“Oh, yeah, he's all over news reports whenever they come on. Well, I was with you guys in Boston and he and Greg were right before the TV in the room there.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! But still—at the end of the day, even with his large brain and social scientist parents, he's still a guy. And he probably wanted to feel something soft and warm and comfy.” Louie glimpsed over at her. “You said he was scared, right?”

“Yeah. It was right when that big fireball went up. He just—came over to me and burst into tears at the sight of it. I held him so close to me and I let him weep into my chest.”

“Well—if you see him next time, really pay attention to his behavior towards you,” he advised her. “If he's actually sincere with you, then it's probably because he's confused and his inexperience is showing. If not, like if he gets close to you again, then don't bother with him for a second longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I'm saying is he either wants you for you or he's using you,” he explained. “I wish I could tell you more about it, but I'm not Alex, though. I can only tell you what I know from being in between two women for a couple of years.” He shook his hair again and then raked his fingers through one side: outside, the signs for Castroville emerged from the scraggly shrubs on either side of the road.

“I imagine him being soft and sweet, though,” he confessed in a low voice, such that it took her aback to hear that.

“Is—there something about him that you see with him?” she sputtered out as she took a glimpse over at him with a bewildered look on her face. Louie bowed his head and cleared his throat.

“Let me ask you a question,” he said as he leaned his head closer to her.

“Okay.”

“Does it bother you at all—” She could tell that he chose his words with care. “—when a guy finds another guy attractive and it's obvious he's not gay at all?”

She opened her mouth to say something to that, but no sound came out.

“Take as much time as you need to answer that, too,” he assured her, “—I asked Zelda this once and she really had to think about it.”

She thought of all the times that she made art while in class, and she thought of the time that she drew Marla in her journal. It wasn't until she really got to know Marla as well as Belinda when she began to see them as a couple of beautiful women. Indeed, as she thought about their willingness to help her out even while she had posted up out on the West Coast, the more she wondered if the whole thing extended further than their smooth New Yorker skin. Further than Marla's colorful hair and further than Belinda's soft doll like features. There was something more to Alex, much like there was something more to Louie in the seat there next to her, and there had to be something more to herself as well. More to them all, and the fact that she and Louie both had a quiet place, a place where they went that fell on blind eyes, was enough to give her a clue.

The hidden spots and everything in between. It was only the beginning.

And thus it only made sense to her to realize that it resided with everyone, including Alex himself.

“No,” she replied after a long while. “No, it doesn't bother me at all.”

“Okay,” Louie proclaimed as they rolled into Castroville. “Sometimes I look at Alex and I think, 'god, he's a really beautiful boy. I imagine being the perfect cuddler, like he must be adept to snuggling and feeling soft underneath a bunch of blankets.' Not necessarily sexy, although he does have a nice chest and thighs.”

“Nice arms, too,” she said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, he's got those really lanky strong guitar player arms.”

“Hey, you've got nice arms, too, Lewis,” she declared.

“Drummer arms.” He shook his right elbow about: his muscles were tight and sinewy.

“Reminds me of Joey's arms,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, that's right! He's a drummer, too.”

“Drummer and a hockey player.”

Louie took the first exit off into that small town and Sam volunteered to buy the both of them cups of coffee and a couple of scones for themselves: she took a chocolate one where he took a peach one for himself.

Within time, they climbed back into the car and Louie guided her over to the spot in question, right down by the Salinas River and where it widened out before it reached the ocean in small narrow fashion. It was there that the shades of yellow that followed them out of the Bay Area returned to that rich dark green that reminded her of New York. The space in the forest outside of the studio where she and Charlie ventured to together, and then she and Joey visited under a blanket of pure white snow.

“We all have a quiet place,” she declared.

“We really do,” Louie said as he sipped on his coffee.

“We all have a house and a home, even if it isn't physical,” she said.

“Yeah, we all have an attic. We all have secrets. We all have things that we show to everyone.”

“We all have things that we've buried—skeletons in the closet,” she muttered.

“And we all have a quiet place,” he added with a raise of his eyebrows.

He took the next right turn, one that brought them down the Salinas River and away from civilization. All the while, the ponderosa pines stretched high up into the sky around them, all up into those low dark swirling clouds that enveloped them in a blanket of coziness. Soon, the pavement gave way to gravel and broken pieces of pavement itself; and every so often, Sam spotted a series of shrubs all over the places, shrubs with little light pink and pearly white flowers.

“The rhododendrons are still in bloom I see,” Louie remarked.

“I don't think I've actually seen those before,” she confessed; the whole scenery made her think of the hole in the wall back in Ithaca. “They only grow here on the coast and in northern Nevada, we have all manner of pines and trees but nothing like this, though. Nothing as delicate and fluffy as those, though.”

“You guys get oleanders down in the Southland. I've seen those a number of times, they're quite lovely.”

“Oh, yeah. Only drawback with oleanders is they grow like weeds down there. Which is absolutely amazing to me because they're very poisonous.”

“At least it's not strychnine,” he told her. “Strychnine or—better yet deadly nightshade.” And Joey entered her mind right as that final word left his lips. “I don't even know if strychnine grows out here,” he continued.

“Yeah, I don't know, either...” Her voice trailed off at that. She thought about Joey and what he was doing right at that moment. They were still touring over in Europe and they were about to drop their brand new album in the meantime as well. If nothing else when she got back to Lake Elsinore, she had to pick up a copy of that.

She would have to search about for that familiar lettering: she knew it when she saw it.

“There should be a garden somewhere,” he continued, “one full of poison plants.”

“The most dangerous garden in the world,” she declared.

“We should literally call it that.”

“'We'?”

“'They', I should say,” he corrected himself; before them, the little road led to that wide part of the river. Big lush ponderosas as well as oak trees with large wide green leaves the size of dinner plates and tall narrow trees with high canopies surrounded them.

“I was just gonna say—do you really wanna go there, Louie?”

“Unless you wanna.” He tugged on the parking lever and switched off the car. “I ain't gonna do it unless you want to do it.”

“We gotta be careful, though,” she pointed out.

“Oh, absolutely. That's something that's just not for the faint of heart. The quintessential declaration of 'you can look but don't touch'. Might wanna throw in a 'for the love of god' in there, too. 'You can look but for the love of god, do not touch.'”

“'Welcome to Shelley and Clemente's poison garden,'” she declared with a gesture of her hand, “the most dangerous garden on Earth. We've got everything from strychnine to belladonna to oleanders to—whatever else we can find. Have it all together under one umbrella. You and me—we could retire off the profits.”

“You think people would actually pay money to see that?” he asked her, stunned.

“Yeah. People pay money to see the weirdest shit, Louie.”

“Case in point!” He gestured to himself.

“You guys aren't weird,” she assured him.

“Yes, we are. We're as weird as weird can possibly be.” He sipped on his coffee a bit more and then he unbuckled his seat belt. “Anyways, this is where I come to clear my head. I call this place 'the end of the world' 'cause it's far removed away from anything. It's only ten miles back to Castroville but—still.”

They both climbed out of there in unison; Sam peered up to the gray sky overhead and she took in the smell of the salt as it filtered in through the trees before them. The Salinas River flowed right next to the small stretch of gravel and partially collapsed pavement.

“This is like the perfect place for a poison garden,” she told him as he led her to the soft dark river bank.

“Oh, yeah, this lush soil here. Look up the plants and see what kind of environment they thrive in.”

“I do know oleanders like heat,” she told him, “it's why they're everywhere in the L.A. area and in the south, too.”

“Have a special greenhouse for those guys,” he continued as he held his cup of coffee close to his chest. “Kinda clean up the pavement behind us a bit so—Skolnick can drive around on it on his—golf—cart.”

“Shelley and Clemente's poison garden—featuring Alex Skolnick's golf cart.” She laughed at that and he laughed with her.

“Can you imagine Alex on a golf cart?” he asked her, and then he held out his arms, “'oh! Oh god! Oh god here we go!'” And he lowered his voice to where he almost matched Alex's tone.

“Four wheelin' on a golf cart,” she laughed some more.

“Hey, Alex! Take it easy, little man!” Louie lowered his voice to a near whisper. “There's stuff in here that'll kill you faster than you can say your middle name!” He shook his head and chuckled some more, and then he took another sip of his coffee.

“So what's the quiet place like?” he asked her as they neared the river's edge.

“In upstate?”

“Yeah.”

“It's about like this, without the river, of course. There was another spot that Joey and I went to when Stormtroopers were in Ithaca a few summers ago—right by the water's edge at the one lake—one of the Finger Lakes that's there. It kind of reminds me of that, like I'm getting the same feeling as that.”

They stopped at the water's edge and Sam leaned out a little bit for a view beyond the trees. The stretch of rich black and gray that was the Pacific Ocean, a mere stone's throw up ahead of them. Even though Louie had a different opinion, Sam couldn't help but feel that there was something prehistoric about this part of the river; something precious and untouched.

“Sometimes, when it's a bit sunnier out,” he started again, “I'll kneel down to the waters here and search around for insects and rocks and stuff. There's a lot of bizarre life here that's endemic only to this part of the river and as far as I know, the whole state.”

“Kind of like a 'keep it forever' sort of thing,” she noted.

“Exactly, right. Keep this whole place hidden away from the world so as to protect it from everything and everyone. Eastern Sierra is the same way. Exact same way.” He sipped on his coffee once again.

“C'mon, I think it's gonna rain—I feel it.”

They returned to the car and sure enough, as Louie fired it up again and they made a turn back at the dead end and proceeded back up the pavement, the first large drops of rain pattered on the roof and the windshield. It would be some time before they reached the Highway 1 once again, but once they did, Sam wondered as to how far they could go without seeing another sliver of civilization between Monterey Bay and the next spot on the coast.

To the left of them stood the high sea cliffs in all their withered and eroded glory, strong and high over their heads, much stronger and higher than the buildings back in New York City or Los Angeles or even San Francisco itself. To the right stood the ocean: the gray and black waters that went on forever into the horizon. Empty and cold, and cradled by the clouds over them. Everything gray and black.

Every so often, Sam peered down to the waves down below as they crashed on the rocks. She looked to the left once again: every so often in the cliffs, a minute ponderosa jutted out from the cracks as if it gasped for the fresh oceanic air. The coast line seemed to stretch on for infinity before them. She glanced over at Louie and the serene expression on his face.

He was her drummer in that moment.

She turned her attention back out to the ocean beyond them as they went around a corner. Maybe it was the lack of anything discernible on the cliffs or the fact that the ocean appearead so endless beyond them, but something about all of this made her squirm in her seat.

Louie's occasional peers down to the gages behind the steering wheel didn't help, either.

An eternity in such a small pocket of the coastline. They really were at the end of the world.

A sign emerged on the side of the road but she had no idea what it read.

“We probably should've stopped for gas in Castroville,” he told her at one point.

“Why, are we low?” she asked him as her heart skipped a beat.

“Sorta. I hope. I don't really know the economy on this thing—I don't really pay attention to that sort of thing.”

They rounded another corner and Louie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel: that time they had a full view of the ocean. The grand view of the waves as they welcomed her to the end of the world, and they were about to run out of gas as far as she knew right then.

Another sign emerged from behind the guard rail and that time she saw that they were ten miles from the central part of the coast.

“Mother fucker!” he spat under his breath.

“It's okay—we're almost to San Simeon,” she told him.

“Yeah, I know—I'm still kicking myself, though. We'll probably gonna coast there the rate we're going at right at the moment.”

“Seriously?” she demanded, shocked.

“Yeah!”

She closed her eyes and she thought of Joey over in Europe. The only thing that seemed worse than losing Cliff to a bus accident that was far beyond her control was her being stranded on the Central California coast and not being able to tell anyone. But then again, they were close to the next piece of civilization.

“As long as we don't drive into the ocean, I think we'll be fine,” she told him.

“We don't drive into a—poison garden,” he muttered as they went around yet another bend in the road: the cliffs soon began to lower away to the sight of more ponderosas and scraggly shrubs.

“There's no poison gardens here,” she assured him.

“You sure? 'Cause like—there's a bend here—and another here—it's like this.”

They rounded a corner as it wound around the coastline: the road dipped inward into a gentle curve and they doubled back to the next crevice in the landscape.

“Sit—” He pointed to the left. “—down—” He pointed to the right. “—sit—down—sit—down—poison garden.” He pointed straight ahead at that last part and she chuckled at that.

Sure enough, the car sputtered a bit right outside of San Simeon: Hearst Castle rose up off in the distance but they had no time to visit right at that moment.

“Told ya we'd have to coast,” he told her as he guided the car to the gas station right there at the edge of town. The engine sputtered again and died right as they coasted into the first spot near the driveway. He let out a low whistle and leaned back in his seat.

“That was close,” she remarked.

“Yeah, I'll say,” he breathed, and then he turned his attention to her. “A twenty'll get us to the heart of Lost Angles and it'll get me up the Grapevine and into the Central Valley.”

“You're not gonna hang out there with me?”

“I can't,” he told her. “We're supposed to make a new album ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right!” She handed him a twenty dollar bill, followed by another which would ensure him a ride back home to the Bay Area.

Once they were filled up, they returned to the road.

“I don't know if Hearst Castle is even open,” Louie confessed.

“I don't, either. It's getting kind of late in the day, too.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

Some more coastline and they found their way down into Solvang and then San Luis Obispo where they were met with the Pacific Coast Highway yet again, and they moved away from the end of the world. So much that she wanted to show to Joey. And so much that she wished Cliff could see again, especially that one stretch of the highway where everything felt so finite and endless at the same time.

They wound their way through the low foothills and yet another unknown pocket of California, until they skirted the outside of Santa Barbara followed by Carpinteria.

The waves down below thrashed even more as they wound along the cliffs towards Ventura. At that point, the sky began to darken with the setting sun on the other side of the blanket of clouds overhead.

“Part of me wants to go down to the beaches here,” Louie confessed to her. “Like—take a walk on one of the beaches here. Yet another thing I wanted to do with Zelda when we were together.”

“We don't have towels, though,” she pointed out.

“And it's cold, too!”

“Right!”

The highway led them into Camarillo and then the heart of Los Angeles, where it ended and became the 210. At that point, night was about to fall over them, and the feeling of dread washed over Sam herself. She knew that Bill would be furious by the mere sight of her walking through that front door without any sort of explanation.

Louie drove them down to Corona and then the hills which cradled Lake Elsinore away from the rest of the region. The clouds had finally dissipated and gave way to a violet and orange sky overhead. Such a great length of time to be in that car with him and a part of her wished they had more time.

More time together. More time to relish over the idea of the poison garden.

But that time was all they had right then and there, much like that stretch of highway that overlooked the ocean.

She guided him to the house by the lake and within time, she recognized the neighborhood in question.

He pulled up to the curb and she sighed through her nose at the realization. Her head spun a bit from having driven such a great distance but at least they could come to a stop on a steady piece of ground. She looked on at the house, with its windows dark and the shades pulled despite the fact that it wasn't that late in the evening.

“Do you need any help?” he offered her, to which she shook her head. Instead, she sighed through her nose again and she climbed out to fetch her things out of the back seat. She decided to give her mother a ring later that night when Bill and the girls had gone to bed, that is if they already did. She hoisted her overnight bag over her shoulder and she held her purse close to her body as she reached the driver's side window. He rolled it down so she could speak to him one last time.

“Louie?”

He leaned closer to the window with his eyebrows raised.

“Thank you,” she said to him in a soft voice, and he showed her a sweet smile.

“It's my pleasure,” he told her with a wink. “Poison garden.”

“Poison garden,” she echoed him with a smile on her face.

“Also—”

She stopped and he gestured for her to come on closer to him.

“Don't worry, I'll—I'll talk to him,” he vowed to her.

“Who?”

“You know. The little man.”

“Oh, him!” She stopped right in her tracks. “What for?”

“Just to see if he's alright. One thing I've noticed about him when he fucks up something—he's real hard on himself. So if it's kinda messed between the two of you, I'll check in on him. I'll check in on him anyways.”

“Good plan,” she told him. “You be safe going back up, alright?”

“You be safe, too. Poison garden!”

Sam stepped away from the car and she turned back to the house, still in one place. Louie drove away right then and he disappeared around the corner. Another seven hours and he'd be back up there. She returned to the front door of the house and she opened it with ease. Silence.

She knew that he wouldn't do it. Sam shook her head and she bowed upstairs to her room.

[eorzeasntm]

ENTM Tumblr Cycle 10 Round Seven Results

Hi folks!  Last week we sent our models out into some bad weather.  This round presents some unusual challenges, specifically capturing the environment and balancing dimmer lighting against the gloomy background.  

While all the models emerged from this round slightly damp (or dry if they were smart enough to get out of the rain), the model whose photo most captured the hearts and minds of our voters this round was:

Odharnait “Ona” Greene

Congratulations!  Rongi Pongi was so impressed with this picture that he said it will inspire a future round of ENTM called “Doors.”  The judges and community agreed that this shot was lovely and a fantastic use of the watercolor filter to brighten the stormy night. 

We have one more week in Tumblr Cycle 10.  In the meantime, ENTM Instagram Cycle 1 is in Week 2 and community voting will begin shortly!  Please visit our Instagram Page for more information. 

Also the October Haukke Manner challenge will be closing at 10 PM Eastern TODAY (Oct 24th) so hurry up and get your entry in for a chance to win a minion from the Mogstation.

Our judges have feedback for our models after the cut. 

Judge Kai

Adam: This is a nice shot. It looks like you're trying to outrace the coming storm and reach a safe haven before getting drenched. You did a good job with the lighting, and used the surrounding area to your advantage! It was a very smart decision to have those glowing flowers in the shot and surrounding you. I can believe that the light that is hitting you is coming from them, and that is why the area (and you) are brighter, despite the darkness that seems to be engulfing the area. There are only two things I can think to suggest. The first is I wish you were just a little closer in this image so we could see you better. Which also leads to my second. I might have gone for a slightly lighter outfit, color wise. Because the image, and the background, is so dark a lot of those black tones start to blend in with what's behind you. Overall, you did a great job!

James: First off, I don't know if you did this on purpose, but I find it very amusing and great timing that it looks as if the lightning is coming right down to touch your hand. Moving on from that, this is an image that, to me, seems to hold sadness or loss in it. It's like the rain is reminding you of something from the past, and it's very lovely is a melancholy sort of way. You definitely pop against the darker background, sticking with the blonds, white and lighter grays are helping you a lot in this image. The lighting is very good as well, but I am wondering what the source of the light is? Perhaps a lightning bolt? While the lighting is well done, it just seems a bit overlit for not having a light source in the area. I think you could have pulled back just a bit, and still gotten away with this image. Other than that, I think you did a very good job!

Ni'ko: I am going to assume, from the way that you look in this image, you're the type of cat that doesn't like to get wet. Well, I don't blame you and that doesn't look like the type of storm I would want to be hanging out in either. Overall this is a good image. The lighting is believable for the time of day. It could be a fire burning just out of view, and it's casting its light on you. I also like the outfit that you picked for a few reasons. It matches the surroundings very well and seeing that this is a darker image, your skin tone pops. The dark purple of the swimming trunks is a good pick, it stands out from the neutral earthy tones around you and gives something that draws the eye to you. The pose is a little awkward as if someone caught you in mid-run,  and you're leaving a lot up to the viewer in this instance with the story you're trying to convey but overall you did a good job!

Judge Vederah

Cowbot: There's a really great, almost ominous feeling to this screenshot. Positioning of your character to the object he's looking at is spot on and helps bring the eye across the entire image. Only issue I have is this image reads way to dark. I think if a bit more lighting was used then your character wouldn't blend into the background as much, and we'd be able to more clearly see the rain effect. That detail was almost completely lost with how dark this picture was. Ona: This is, in my opinion, the best use of a gpose filter I've seen in this entire competition. I love how the water color effect really amplifies the rain effect in the background. I also really appreciate how the cool and warm tones of this image come together in this shot.  The only thing I could think of to change is possibly a very small light used to the characters right- the only downside of the watercolor filter is it blurs a lot of the smaller details. Here it cast a very dark shadow on her scales, losing the definition in her face. Wren: This shot reminds me of the scene from the original, cartoon Snow White as she's making her way through the haunted forest.  I just love how innocent and genuinely frightened your character looks against such a foreboding backdrop.  Lighting is the only issue I have here. The background on the right portion of the screen is so dark that just reads as empty space. I think if you had upped the intensity of the lighting on that half of the image just a touch, it would've popped those details in the foreground.

Judge M’Telihgo

Nadede -  I like this.  I love how you stand out against the background.  I also like the umbral static weather effect very much.  I enjoyed playing with different settings and see how images turned out.  Have you ever done that?  It could be fun.  I do wonder what you are looking at while doing your chakra, you seem so intent on it.  I think the bright colors of your armbands and your pants pop against your pale skin.  Which leads to my only real criticism of this picture and is minor.  While your top has some color in it, I think it blends into you a little, not too much but another color may have been better.  Still, you look awesome!

Chee – I love the background.  I like dark colors and things that seem kind of spooky, and this has that for me.  I approve of the location.  For all of that, I like it very much.  Your outfit in a lighter blue makes you stand out against your very dark background and I think the colors suit you well.  There is one thing that makes it so that I cannot enjoy this picture as much as I would like to.  I’m not sure what happened, but there is a ghosting around your face as if you were caught between frames of an animation where it is starting to draw in the next one.  Sadly, that blur makes it so that looking at it for more than a moment makes my eyes water.  It’s a shame too since I really like it overall.

Lantis – Ooh.  I do like this spot for exactly this reason.  FIGHT!!  Anyway, there is a negative though when doing this at night.  Dead space.  I see where your addition of the sakura effect may have been used to try and counter this and it does help.  I also think that a little different timing of your sparring partner would really make this pop much more.  As it is right now, you are in action and your partner is looking away, at their shoes.  If you could have caught it where they are looking at you, it would definitely sell the action seen much more like they are trying to parry your blow by timing their draw.  Adventure on the high seas!  Kind of anyway.  I still give you credit for catching the lightning bolt just right, I’ve done it and I found it to be a chore.  Well done!

Judge Kusuh

Azalea: I'm a huge fan of the overall "mood" of the picture- a paladin standing in a dark storm; did they recently fail a mission? Are they brooding? Is this where the orchestra swells to give a tearful moment? As I've said before, when I'm left thinking about the possibilities behind an image, it's a good sign! This may be one of my favorite pictures from you so far. The setting, the use of the pencil filter to add more of a "rain" effect, and the overall pose show me that you've given some real thought to everything that goes into this picture. The frame choice is also something I love, but it also comes with this one small critique: when you use this frame, you are using it to trick the viewer into seeing three separate pictures in a single shot. When you have parts of yourself spilling over into the other two frames, this kills the illusion and just leaves the picture looking disjointed. My advice for a picture like this would be to play with your zoom and pose options so that you can fit yourself into a single frame! You're improving every week, I can't wait to see what comes next!

Haila: You have a wonderful sense of visual flow going on in this picture. At first glance, I can easily follow from the spark in the top left corner, down the spear, to your face, and then follow your eyes to your fingers and then off the right side of the image. The choice of color (and the limit of color) were also a smart choice here; the limited palette really adds a sense of impact. Something to think about: This is more on the side of a "high fashion" shot as opposed to a story shot. Don't get me wrong, I very much like both kinds, but one of the things I've seen many ENTM models get pointed out (myself included) is when a shot lacks a story. Your shots in the past have always been a mix of both fashion and story, and this one feels like it shoots straight to the side of fashion. Once again, this isn't really a bad thing, but it's something I want you to be aware of as you plan your final shots in the upcoming weeks. Excellent work so far!

Judge Rongi

Lily:  With this shot, I think you found a really great lighting that makes your character look gorgeous. You could crop out this whole shot and just have it on you, shoulders up, and it'd be a beautiful head shot. The shot itself fits the theme of the week, but I wish it had a little more oomph! to it. I have "Summertime Sadness" stuck in my head now thanks to you though. Haha. I would have loved to see more posing, a stronger background choice, and a clear reason for why you are standing in the rain. Rymm:  These colors are everything. Great choice in gear. I love that the backshot is 3/4 of the way so we can still see a bit of your face. I wish we could see more, but its just enough to not be a backshot dead on. I usually would be against a solid black background, but using the lightning and your outfit colors to pop out like that is amazing. Had you been wearing all black, this wouldn't have worked at all. I love the pose of both you and the lightning. It creates a really interested shape in the middle, like dancing. Ysildor: You are going to get electrocuted waving that pick around like that! I love the idea as it beckons to Thor's hammer. I wonder if you had tried or could use an hammer instead. The background has those nice buildings in it that creates a line across the image that leads the viewer straight to you. And then we follow your shape up in to the sky and back down with the lighting. Really well done composition wise. 

[derneue3-blog]

7 Tips for Incorporating Texture in Your Illustrations

Looking for ways to add visual interest to your illustrations? Follow along as these pros share their favorite tips for using creative textures.

In this digital age, handcrafted imagery is a rarity, but image-buyers continue to crave designs that seem homemade and tangible. This year, Shutterstock named Digital Crafts as one of the top emerging trends in illustration. The Digital Crafts movement combines the convenience and efficiency of modern technology with the tactile, authentic mood we associate with traditional art forms like embroidery, origami, or even watercolor painting. The difference between a mediocre image and a great one can come down to one thing: the textures.

By successfully tapping into this trend, leading illustrators and vector artists produce images that seem timeless and cutting-edge at the same time. But creating two dimensional designs with a textured look is a challenge. Often, it means thinking outside the box by combining totally different methods or even inventing a whole new technique. We asked seven top illustrators from the Shutterstock collection to share the secrets behind some of their most successful images. Read on to see how they've updated fine craftsmanship for the 21st century.

1. “I add small, intentional defects and imperfections to emulate the look of manually cut elements.”

wacomka

Image by wacomka.

What's the story behind this illustration?

As a designer, I always pay attention to unique, handmade things. On my wedding day, there was a wall decorated with big, oversized, handmade paper flowers. I later decided to incorporate this feeling into my 3D graphics. Adding the paper texture was a simple and elegant way to make my botanical digital designs look like real handmade paper craft. There are a lot of 3D renders of paper flowers in my portfolio. I like to play with shapes and colors, applying textures and arranging flowers into different compositions.

Image by wacomka.

Pro Tip:

When modeling 3D elements, such as paper flowers, I prefer not to create mathematically precise or symmetrical shapes. I add small, intentional defects and imperfections to emulate the look of manually cut elements. It works perfectly with the texture of real paper.

2. “Find something that fascinates you, apart from drawing, and incorporate it into your work.”

Sopelkin

Image by Sopelkin.

What's the story behind this illustration?

I have always been inspired by painting, and embroidery is tangible painting on fabric. It is diligent work that requires a lot of patience, and I could not allow myself to devote the time to this activity. The other day, it occurred to me to draw embroidery in vector. It was exciting, and I was satisfied with the result. I began to embroider more using Adobe Illustrator. I like that my vectors are similar to embroidered paintings or watercolor sketches; I think there is a soul in my electronic works.

Image by Sopelkin.

Pro Tip:

Look for something that inspires you in real life. Find something that fascinates you, apart from drawing, and incorporate it into your work. The result will be twice as interesting.

Instagram

3. “My trick is drawing lots of strokes with a liner on paper and then photographing and tracing it. It is rather laborious, but I like the result.”

mamita (Marina Vorontsova)

Image by mamita (Marina Vorontsova).

What's the story behind this illustration?

This pattern was created from drawings that I initially rejected. I planned to throw them away because I didn't like them very much. This often happens. After a while, I look at them with fresh eyes. This time, I decided to revive these old works. I slightly modified them in Photoshop and created a pattern from the individual details. It turned out a little boring, but I remembered the coloring of Chinese and Japanese lacquer miniatures and decided to apply it here. With the help of gold, black, and red colors, it became more expressive. Now it is one of my bestselling works. Such stories teach us not to stop halfway but to carry everything out from beginning to end.

mamita (Marina Vorontsova).

mamita (Marina Vorontsova).

mamita (Marina Vorontsova).

Pictured: [1] mamita (Marina Vorontsova). [2] mamita (Marina Vorontsova). [3] mamita (Marina Vorontsova).

Pro Tip:

My drawings are all handmade. My trick is drawing lots of strokes with a liner on paper and then photographing and tracing it. It is rather laborious, but I like the result. In the past, I looked for a way to reduce the time needed to create an illustration. I applied readymade textures to my drawings and used scripts, but the automatic texture is poorly controlled, so I wasn't comfortable with it.

The handmade nature of my work may give the impression that I am stuck in the last century. Today, artificial intelligence writes poetry, makes music, paints, and so much more. But there is a charm to drawings made by hand on paper. There is a soul and a trace of personality. I adore the artists who use new technologies, and I admire their achievements, but the work of the old masters is more inspiring to me.

4. “When I make textured elements on paper, I usually make them larger than I expect them to be in the final image because it allows me to save more details when scanning.”

Ms Moloko (Nadezhda Shikina)

Image by Ms Moloko (Nadezhda Shikina).

What's the story behind this illustration?

In this pattern, I wanted to play with a combination of floral and geometric elements. I decided to make the geometrical elements more relaxed to give the pattern a more natural, casual look, as if somebody had drawn the stripes with a paintbrush. In order to do that, I used a handmade textured brush stroke, which I scanned and edited a little bit digitally.

Image by Ms Moloko (Nadezhda Shikina).

Pro Tip:

Often the shapes and lines of vector art are regular, perfectly precise, and clean to give the impression of a geometrically ideal image. That's great, but sometimes we want images that seem a bit more tactile and handmade. I look for ways to combine digital and traditional art in one image. When I make textured elements on paper, I usually make them larger than I expect them to be in the final image because it allows me to save more details when scanning. It's also a good idea to have a collection of simple textured shapes and strokes to use as additional elements in the future. You can use them later to make more complex objects or to create digital brushes.

5. “When you use a very dense pattern, you always run the risk of getting a rather flat and uninteresting image, so I play with the contrasts created by direct lighting, and I focus only on one area.”

Gualtiero Boffi

Image by Gualtiero Boffi.

What's the story behind this illustration?

I have always liked the different effects that carbon fiber can create. According to the lighting, the image itself can change radically. It can be opaque or extremely shiny, and it can change if you simply move the light or the observation point. It's very versatile, and in this case, I wanted to create an image that had a modern atmosphere that recalled the sci-fi style typical of video games. In this case, I could not resist the addition of the glowing light strip!

Gualtiero Boffi.

Gualtiero Boffi.

Pictured: [1] Gualtiero Boffi. [2] Gualtiero Boffi.

Pro Tip:

When you use a very dense pattern, you always run the risk of getting a rather flat and uninteresting image, so I play with the contrasts created by direct lighting, and I focus only on one area. In the image above, I created a hexagonal grid to break the homogeneity of the carbon fiber. I wanted to play with different levels of depth to accentuate the three-dimensionality.

6. “One of my favorite tools is the Blend tool, which is great if you want to create a repetitive texture (like for feathers), engraved elements, or precise hand-drawn details.”

mashakotcur

Image by mashakotcur.

What's the story behind this illustration?

This is one of my best-selling illustrations on Shutterstock. I live in a small, forested village. Near my house is a big meadow with a lot of wildflowers. Almost every summer morning, I drink coffee and go walk there with my Canon. One morning, I noticed a lot of small butterflies on the grass with wide open wings after the rain. They couldn't fly away, as their wings were still wet, so I was able to carefully shoot them on my camera. The tulips from the illustration are from my small garden. The idea was to create something pretty and fresh but at the same time nostalgic and vintage-inspired.

mashakotcur.

mashakotcur.

Pictured: [1] mashakotcur. [2] mashakotcur.

Pro Tip:

Pay attention to small details and textures for a realistic, lively look. I love to mix different textures from real source materials. One of my favorite tools is the Blend tool, which is great if you want to create a repetitive texture (like for feathers), engraved elements, or precise hand-drawn details. You can also create your own customized tools. For me, it was a bit of a problem finding good brushes for vector drawing in Adobe Illustrator, but I thought, “Hey! If I can't find what I need, why not create it?” I took real brushes, pens, and inks, and I made a few basic strokes on paper and then shot them. I edited the resulting image and traced it in vector to create my own brushes. Now I use them again and again in all kinds of different illustrations.

Instagram

7. “Textures are everywhere around us: wood, paper, fabric, leaves, grass, flowers, stones, etc. Just look around and pay attention to everything.”

Le Panda (Elena Efremova)

Image by Le Panda (Elena Efremova).

What's the story behind this illustration?

In this illustration, I mixed textures from different parts of the world. The texture of the tree I photographed was on an old door in Provence, France. The ornament was from the time I studied how to paint with henna in India on the island of Diu. I drew the flowers in a blooming park in Moscow in the spring. The result is a mixture of styles and textures.

Image by Le Panda (Elena Efremova).

Pro Tip:

Do not be afraid to play. Textures are everywhere around us: wood, paper, fabric, leaves, grass, flowers, stones, etc. Just look around and pay attention to everything. Mixing different textures is interesting and fun, like a game.

Instagram

Top Image by Le Panda (Elena Efremova).

The post 7 Tips for Incorporating Texture in Your Illustrations appeared first on The Shutterstock Blog.