#watercolor over the graphite and ink

[tomoleary]

Frank Miller (pencil), Tom Palmer (ink) and Steve Oliff (color) Amazing Spider-Man Annual #14 page 37 Lucius Dilby (1980) Source

[sardosycserokyric]

Design for a wall decoration with peacock, cranes, and sunflowers for the restaurant in Hotel Langham (Paris), Emile Hurtré and Jules C. Wielhorski, 1896-1898, pen and black, blue, and metallic ink, watercolor, over graphite.

[cece693]

Hey!! I wanted to make a request for Percy x (male reader) son of Apollo

The reader is mainly good at writing and drawing, and enjoys using Percy as his muse for his works.

Thank you, take all the time you need 🙇

Shades of Green and Gold

pairing: percy jackson x maler reader tags: you are kinda a stalker, returned feelings, first kiss, percy is too handsome for the reader, you can legit write sonnets about percy, cute but kinda creepy

You’re reasonably sure that no one else in Camp Half-Blood spends as much time admiring Percy Jackson’s hair as you do. You won’t deny it, because who could blame you? There’s something about the way he grins, the way his sea-green eyes light up when he’s on the verge of a clever remark, or the way he ruffles his hair after a long day of training. It’s enthralling. You’re an artist—writing, sketching, painting—son of Apollo, heir to creativity and light. And Percy Jackson is your favorite muse.

Every morning, you wake early to catch the exact moment the sun spills over the lake, painting the surface with soft pinks and gold. You slip out of the Apollo Cabin carefully, trying not to wake your rowdy half-siblings. You carry a small sketchbook and pencil in your hand, charcoal in the other. The crisp morning air still bites, but there’s something comforting about that quiet, in-between time.

You settle on a flat rock near the canoe lake. From here, you can watch the water, the line of cabins, and if you’re lucky—Percy Jackson heading off to breakfast or morning training. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve drawn him: in graphite, in watercolor, with ink. Half-finished poems about his eyes litter your journal.

Today is no different. As soon as you spot Percy, you can’t help but smile. He’s dragging a sword behind him, hair sticking out in all directions, still yawning. He’s adorable. You press your pencil to the page and start outlining his silhouette. The curve of his shoulders, the lines of his arms…You’re so focused that you barely notice when he turns and catches your gaze.

Percy raises his eyebrows in obvious curiosity. You flush, snapping your sketchbook shut, but it’s too late—he’s already jogging over. “Morning,” he says, grin slowly turning more playful. “Am I interrupting?”

You swallow and manage a small laugh, hugging the sketchbook to your chest. “Not at all. Just…practicing.”

He nods towards your pencil. “I see. Gonna show me sometime?”

Your heart beats louder than a battle drum. “Maybe…eventually.”

Percy’s grin grows. “I’ll hold you to that. See you at breakfast?”

You nod, and he jogs off, leaving you with that dopey, starstruck feeling you’ve never quite gotten used to. By the time you arrive at the Arena for combat practice, the midday sun is high and fierce—Apollo’s domain. You tie your golden camp shirt around your waist (much to your instructor’s dismay), opting for a lighter white tank top. Sweating profusely while you train with a bow is not your ideal way to spend an afternoon, but your father’s gift—unerring aim—doesn’t sharpen itself.

Chiron pairs you with Percy for a quick sparring session. It’s supposedly to “expand your skill set,” but you wonder if it’s the universe giving you more material for your sketches. You try to steady your heart as he flashes you another signature grin.

He wields his trusty sword, Riptide. You draw your bow, focusing on the center of the target behind him, but your eyes can’t help drifting to the lean lines of his arms. You almost feel guilty. Almost.

“All set?” Percy calls, pushing his dark hair out of his face.

“I’m ready,” you answer, stepping into position.

The session starts strong. You manage to keep your arrows close to the mark, even as Percy deflects them with impressive skill and a flurry of water from a nearby barrel. You can sense he’s showing off a bit—it’s Percy, after all. You grin. His confidence is infectious, and soon the two of you are exchanging friendly banter.

When you pause to catch your breath, Percy flicks water droplets from his blade in your direction. You splutter, trying not to laugh. He shrugs with an impish twinkle in his eye.

“Heard you’re a good artist,” he says casually, striding forward until you can see the slightest hint of sweat at his temples. “Piper told me your last painting of the Apollo Cabin was amazing.”

Your cheeks heat. “It’s nothing big.”

“From what I hear, it’s a big deal,” Percy insists, stepping closer. The space between you is suddenly charged. “Will you show me your work someday? I mean it this time.”

“Sure.” You feel the sun warm you from above, the presence of your divine father giving you a little nudge of courage. “I’d like that.”

That evening, the sky burns a vivid orange as the sun descends behind the strawberry fields. You find yourself on the porch of the Big House, perched on a bench, scribbling in your notebook. You wanted to capture the memory of Percy deflecting your arrows, to freeze the moment onto the page with just the right words.

“Still practicing?” Percy’s voice comes from behind you, startling you so badly you almost drop your pencil.

“Percy! I—”

He doesn’t wait for you to form a coherent sentence; he slides onto the bench next to you. The fading sunlight catches the green in his eyes, setting them aglow. His presence is warm and all-consuming, even though the day is cooling down.

“Sorry to sneak up on you,” he says. “Thought you might be here.”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s fine. You just startled me.”

He nods toward your notebook. “May I?”

You hesitate. The words in that notebook are deeply personal. Poems about his eyes, the curve of his smile, your fleeting impressions of each encounter. But there’s something in Percy’s earnest expression that calls you to trust him. With trembling fingers, you pass the notebook over.

He flips through carefully, eyes scanning the lines of your writing. He stops occasionally, lips moving with the words, eyebrows quirking up at certain phrases. You sense your entire being is in that notebook, and he’s reading you like a story. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

When Percy finally looks up, his eyes are strangely bright. “You wrote these…about me?”

You pull your gaze away. “I guess you could say you inspire me.”

He’s silent for a moment. You dare to look up and see a smile, soft and genuine, tugging at his lips. “It’s good. Like…really good. I had no idea I could be someone’s muse.”

You exhale a nervous laugh. “I, uh…I can show you the drawings, too, if you want.”

Percy nods, looking more interested than ever. “Definitely.”

You lead Percy to the Apollo Cabin and slip inside. Your siblings are out—probably at the campfire or racing chariots—leaving the bunks and scattered musical instruments in a hush. You rummage beneath your bunk, pulling out a battered portfolio.

It’s stuffed with sketches—some finished, some half-done. A watercolor of Percy standing by the lake. A charcoal piece of him gripping Riptide. A gentle pencil sketch focusing on just his face…his eyes, to be precise. You lay them out across your bunk. Percy stands behind you, so close you can practically feel the warmth radiating off him. You swallow, heart pounding, as he takes in each piece.

“They’re amazing,” he breathes, leaning down to pick one up. “I never realized—this is how you see me?”

You can’t quite meet his eyes. “There’s something about you, Percy,” you admit. “Your energy, your aura. You’re like the sea itself—constantly shifting, alive with motion. It inspires me. Helps me write, helps me draw. I never wanted to freak you out, so I kept it mostly to myself.”

Percy gently returns the piece of artwork to your bunk, then turns you around by the shoulder so you’re facing him. His hand lingers, thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt.

“I’m not freaked out,” he says. “I’m flattered, honestly.” He chuckles, eyes scanning your face as though he’s searching for any hint of uncertainty. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

You feel a burst of warmth in your chest. “Really?”

“Really.” Percy exhales a soft laugh, letting his hand drop to your wrist. “I like it. And I’d like to see more—whatever you make. If that’s okay.”

You search his expression, uncertain if you’re reading the situation correctly. The glimmer in his sea-green eyes suggests you might be. Mustering your courage, you nod slowly. “You can see everything,” you say, voice hushed in the quiet cabin. “I—I’d really like that.”

His smile widens. “Thank you.”

You swallow, that same unstoppable grin blossoming across your own face. The tension thickens, but it’s a gentle tension, a comforting one. He leans forward, and you feel his forehead against yours, that sweet, electric moment of closeness you’ve been imagining for weeks.

Finally, your lips brush softly, uncertain at first. Then Percy returns the kiss, delicate yet full of promise. It’s the kind of quiet moment that you know you’ll replay over and over in your sketches, in your poems, in your daydreams. When you finally pull away, you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. Percy gives a contented sigh, resting his forehead against yours again.

“Would it kill the mood if I told you I knew about this?"

[kafkasapartment]

The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun, 1805. William Blake (1757-1827). Pen and ink with watercolor over graphite.

[periodinteriors]

Sir Horace Jones (British 1819-1887), Guildhall, London: The Great Hall, Facing East, c. 1864, watercolor and ink over graphite.

[arthistoryanimalia]

#MonkeyDay 🐒:

Suzie Zuzek (American, 1920-2011) Trinket, 1971 watercolour, ink, graphite, white gouache on paper 38.1 x 55.9 cm private collection (photo via Christie's) “This watercolor is based off Zuzek's real life pet #monkey, Trinket, who lived in her backyard in downtown Key West. Trinket had run of the island and would come and go from Zuzek's house through his own personal door. Trinket turned up in many of Zuzek's patterns over the years, and here he appears making mischief and drinking martinis.”

[horses-in-art-history]

John Frederick Herring, Sr., Five Horses near a Brook, 1850, Yale Center for British Art.

Watercolor, with pen, in gray ink, over graphite on moderately thick, smooth, cream, wove paper.

(Picture source for Five Horses near a Brook)

[shelandsorcery]

for a while, my traditional art passions were all very intercompatible: watercolor, gouache, pen & ink, pencil crayons, graphite pencils, they all play really nice with each other not only on the same sheet of paper, but also in very similar workspace setups.

then I did that thing where I got into a few different new media, and it turns out that if you are doing oil pastels in a workspace, or at least if I am, because I'm quite messy, I really don't also want to have any of my water media brushes or substrates nearby in case they get greasy. which is to say nothing of the amount of space needed if I'm going to try and do any sculpting.

which is to say, I used to feel very comfortable making the most of my single work surface, and now, I really feel a lot more restricted! if I want to sculpt, I cannot also do painting on the same day, and the same with oil pastels.

It's not at all the end of the world, but I just really didn't realize this was going to be like this! and it's a bit of an adjustment. I usually like to chip away at things over a few days, and especially if I have a big piece on the go, usually really helps to break it up with a couple of small studies or other work. I'm going to have to get pretty creative to make that happen across these different categories nowadays.

if you're a mixed media artist with a similar set of challenges, I'd really love to know, how do you wrangle stuff?

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Naughty times with Deuce... Trying not to get caught in school 🙈? I want to see him embarrassed... (Been thinking about his arms... Bless his liongarb groovy)

Take A Break

A/N: Deuce was my first SSR card so he has a special spot in my heart. And seeing how big and strong he has gotten over the years… I am happy you understand… I hope you enjoy.

tags: Deuce Spade x gn!reader, reader wears pants with their uniform, aged up au(deuce and reader are 21+), exhibitionism wc: 1.7k+

It was the week of your final exam. And after that? Graduation. Everyone was stressed. Being a few days away from a test that would make or break your credits, it was to be expected. You sat across from Deuce. You watched him rub his temples with a soft shake of his head. “I feel like the room is spinning.” The two of you had been in the library for two hours and a handful of minutes. The sun was still high in the sky as the AC filled library left your cheeks bitten from the chill. “We should take a break then. If you force yourself to keep going then you won’t retain anything for the test.” You offered, looking down at your own notebook with a frown. The notes you made had begun to mesh into a string of graphite and ink swirls. It was definitely time for a break. 

Deuce flipped his beaten-up notebook shut. Exhaling a sigh that sounded defeated. “I’m sorry for asking you to study with me.” Deuce sat back in his wooden chair. The wood creaked, and his eyes lowered themselves to the table. “I know you have stuff you would rather be doing. But I am really grateful.” He quickly looked up, a soft red color filled his cheeks and he laced his fingers. He was bashful.  

“If Ace was here, we wouldn’t have gotten anything done.” You reminded him, slowly sliding your foot towards his beneath the table. Ace had been excluded from today’s study session. Actually, he excluded himself. He claimed to have made plans with a date after school. But neither of you believed him. Instead, you both agreed in silence that he wanted to skip out for something more enjoyable. You couldn’t blame him. But you didn’t want to risk failing something so important either. “But,” your foot slowly slipped out of its loafer, and up Deuce’s calf. 

His turquoise eyes flickered from you and down to his lap. Widening in shock as he started to visibly tense his body. “I agree. There is something I would rather be doing.” You smiled at him, flipping your own notebook shut. The red in his cheeks bloomed across the rest of his face. Like a bleeding watercolor that spread over the pale terrain of paper. “R-Really? ... Right now?” He whispered, refusing to look up at you as you rested on your elbows. Smiling at the view before you. “We’re taking a break, aren’t we?” You reminded him as your sock covered foot rubbed against his thigh. Feeling the toned muscle beneath his uniform pants twitch from your soft touches. “Um...” Deuce’s tone softened. Your foot was making its way towards his crotch. And just before you could reach said goal, his hand shot downwards and caught you by the ankle. 

His eyes wide and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Deuce looked as though he would burst into tears at any given moment. You deflated, wondering if maybe you were teasing him too much. Until his grip loosened. “Well... We could... Um...” He straightened up his posture. His fingers loosening on your ankle as you cautiously moved your foot again. Now applying pressure directly to his clothed cock. He flinched, eyes screwing shut. “We could?” You urged him to continue, massaging him slowly as your smile grew and grew. “I have... A...” He was growing breathless.  

His shoulders rose and fell with each rhythmic stroke. Lips parting to inhale and exhale as his eyes finally opened and met yours. You knew what he wanted. But you were interested to hear him say what he wanted. Deuce was capable of it. He had done it many times in the past with your own form of encouragement. “Condom... In my pocket... Can I use it?” What a good boy. “I don’t see why not. Since you asked nicely.” Your smile widened you retracted your touch. Slipping your loafer back onto your foot with a swift drag of your heel.  

The two of you rose from the creaky wooden chairs. You could see a few students lingering among the shelves of books as you took Deuce up to the second floor. Your fingers pinching at the sleeve of his blazer as he followed obediently behind you. Deuce has been like this since the day you met him years ago. Where everyone else saw that solid brick of a man, you saw a dog who wagged his tail hoping for a treat. Be it a pat on the head, or something he could devour with a thank you whispered under his breath.  

You found a suitable corner among the leather covers and paperbacks. It was dim, and you knew that no one would come all the way up here for a how to guide on baking. The moment you let go of his sleeve, your body was suddenly pressed against the wall. Deuce was right behind you, cock straining against his uniform pants. Pressing against the curve of your ass. His body caged yours against the wall and his own. “All I did was give you a little rub you and here you are...” You laughed softly and rested your hands against the cool plaster.  

You clenched your teeth as Deuce’s mouth pressed hurriedly against the back of your neck. Messy kisses and soft whines as his hands tugged and pulled at your belt and his hips rocked into you. You couldn’t recall the last time you had sex. Between studying and playing the role of the campus therapist, you hadn’t found time. You could see how that was affecting both you and Deuce. Your body felt unusually sensitive.  

The way his hands pulled your belt free lit a fire in your stomach. How his teeth dragged against the exposed flesh of your throat made your toes scrunch in your shoes. All you could do was let out breathless gasps of pleasure as goosebumps prickled along your skin from beneath your clothes. There was a small gap between you, feeling a hand roughly grab the back of your uniform pants and force them down.  

When you yelped in surprise and turned back to see Deuce, your eyes met. He looked shocked, and apologetic. “Sorry...” He murmured, his gaze downturned and his face burned with embarrassment. He’s too cute. “You’re so eager, it caught me off guard.” You reached a hand back, looping your fingers around his tie to pull him close. His mouth met yours. Lips meshing together in a soft kiss.  

There was a lingering, acidic taste of an energy drink he had finished just before your study session. His tongue pressed against yours, gliding against the muscle as he continued to rock his hips with impatience. Your bottoms were now bunched around your thighs, your rear now exposed to the cool air as you continued the barrage of kisses. Playfully biting at Deuce’s lips. Even swaying your hips against his crotch to entice him into moving things along. 

You shuddered at the sound of his belt clinking. How he turned his head away to press kisses against the side of your face as you kept his tie firm in your hold. A makeshift leash for your boytoy. Whom you loved to pull around behind you where he belonged. There was the shuffle of fabric, and the feeling of something warm and wet against your hole. Deuce must be using magic. You loved him dearly.  

But there was no way he was smart enough to keep lube on his person. A set of fingers worked their way inside. Thrusting slowly in and out, curling and pressing against the soft inner walls of your body as you rocked in tandem. Your eyes fluttered shut, your head pressing against the cool plaster of the wall. His longest fingers tapped against that delicate, spongy spot inside of you that you wanted hit the most. Your legs trembled, the whimpers and weak cries that passed your lips only became louder. Your walls convulsed around Deuce’s two fingers. Feeling them slowly pull out with a slick, wet, pop!  

You frowned from displeasure. Wanting the filling sensation to return. The crinkle of foil being ripped and tucked away made you sigh in content. There were no words exchanged as Deuce moved behind you, out of view as something much bigger than fingers began to prod at your entrance. With a tug on Deuce’s tie, his arm wrapped around your torso and he began to push inside of you.  

Feeling his cock finally slide inside of you forced your breath to catch in your throat. The slow stretch that you had grown familiar with fed the fire in your stomach. His forehead was pressed against your shoulder blade as he continued. Easing himself in and slowly pulling out until he had filled you entirely. Your bodies connected as he held you firmly against his taller and more muscular figure. 

The sensation of his arm flexing and tightening around you made your heart jump with excitement. Deuce was always so modest. Straightening his tie, keeping his shirt buttoned all the way despite it visibly stretching taut over his chest. You rested both hands against the wall now. Your breathing shallow and soft as Deuce remained still behind you. Throbbing deep inside of you. Desperate to move his hips. But he wouldn’t dare to do so, not until you told him he could. 

With a small rock of your hips against him, his other arm snaked around your waist. His thrusts were steady, picking up speed as he held you firmly against his body. The smacks of skin against skin had only become louder and louder. Your moans mixing with Deuce's, a hand left the wall to instead find stability in gripping Deuce’s bicep. The pressure building in your stomach left you trembling in ecstasy. Getting closer and closer to the orgasm you both desperately craved. Your mouth had fallen open as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of your temple. Deuce mumbled something that suggested he was close to finishing, but it sounded much closer to a string of curses. You nodded quickly, feeling your own orgasm overwhelming you as you shook under his tight hold. Your knees buckling, a strangled whine making its way out of your throat as you finished. One of Deuce’s hands flew towards the wall as he supported you both. His hips continued as he chased after his own release.  

You were happy that you both decided to take a break.  

[victusinveritas]

In 1913 in Leipzig, during a foggy night, a cage of lions from a circus caravan was hit by a trolley. Eight lions escaped and wandered into the streets. Artist Walton Ford interprets this event here, saying, “I wanted a decidedly undramatic moment, to show the curiosity and timid confusion of these lost lionesses, which don’t know where to go or what to do, and don’t know what they’re seeing. I imagined one of the hats that had been left behind: the lions approach it like a strange object, like a turtle or something.”

___

Walton Ford (b. 1960)

Study 2 for “Leipzig,” 2018

Watercolor, gouache, and ink over graphite

The Morgan Library & Museum

[bitegore]

if you want to get better at smoothly shading in pencil without smudging your graphite (which to me just never looks very good unless you're really good at it, whereas carefully-layered light shading with a pencil rarely looks half as amateurish even when it is measurably less well-done so i'd imagine it also looks that way to some others) the best advice i have is to use a ballpoint pen, like a normal office pen that you can get some gradation out of because the ink doesn't flow- don't use one of those fancy wet ink bic ones or whatever, and use it like it's your pencil for a few weeks and then come back to see what kind of control you have over your pencil lines, darkness, coverage, etc after. i was working with a mediocre ballpoint earlier (didn't want to ruin my good inks on the gritty as hell watercolors i use) and was reminded of how fast my ability to shade in pencil picked up when i ran out of pencils to doodle with during part of my sophomore year in high school and started doing ballpoint drawings the same way i did my pencil ones

[tomoleary]

Jim Starlin - Drax the Destroyer Illustration Original Art (1970s) Source

[margindoodles2407]

ALL OF THEM!!! GO!!! :DDD

oh gosh cheeto. why would you do this to me. i love you my friend but whyyy (light-hearted)

alrighty let's go

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

1. what medium do you use most (if applicable, what software)?

Graphite, ink, and/or colored pencils. Occasionally watercolors, but that's usually for my bigger pieces that I don't often post online.

2. most popular piece?

This one, apparently (yeah i'm still really proud of it though. it held up well. canNOT say that for some of my old star wars doodles.)

3. your favorite piece(s)?

In Chronological Order: Dryad!Deku Tree, Arwen, Hero of Winds: Conductor of Tempests, Twilight of the Republic, Evil Artsyle Challenge, Philomena, The Best Captain Rex I've Ever Drawn, Shinies, Sacred Heart, Experience, Fives and Echo Number ???, and Necrosis

4. piece you wish got more love?

In Chronological Order: Ninety-Nine and Hevy, Sun-Dragon Heart, Ahsoka and Shaak Ti (for #jedi june), and We're Going To Kill Dracula

5. how would you describe your art style?

Hmm. I guess... "Stylized Realism" might be the best way to describe it. I'm big on realistic proportions and detailing, but it still betrays the influence animation and storybook illustrations have had on me.

6. favorite thing to draw?

...take a wild guess (it's the clones)

7. easiest thing for you to draw?

People!

8. thing you struggle to draw?

Anything other than people!

9. whats something you always come back to when drawing?

Ahsoka Tano. She was one of the first characters I drew when I was getting back into Star Wars, and I literally measure my art progress by how she's changed in my style. I guess you could say she's my comfort character to draw.

10. how do you deal with artblock?

I don't.

11. do you listen to anything while drawing?

Yes! Actually I kind of need background music or noise of some kind while I'm drawing, otherwise I've found I just can't get into the groove. Mostly I listen to my various character playlists.

12. describe your process while drawing

I am granted a Vision (tm), I get my materials, I tear my hair out because my picture is not exactly how it was in the Vision (tm), and then I redraw it over and over until it slightly resembles the Vision (tm).

13. talk about a wip you like!

Oooh, okay! Right now I'm in the process of painting a watercolor of... Ahsoka... for my High Fantasy AU, and the drawing actually is turning out great! I just haven't had time to paint her yet.

14. whats your favorite thing about drawing?

I like to make stupid memes in my overly elaborate style. I think it's the best use of my gifts XD

15. least favorite thing about drawing?

I can only really draw when Inspired (tm), meaning I can go days or even weeks without anything getting put on the paper.

16. how do you motivate yourself to draw?

I sit and yell at myself in my mind. Just kidding. But again, I do have to have an inspiration for anything to actually happen; I can't just go in cold.

17. what is something youre confident about in your art?

I can draw people, and especially everything above the knees, really well. I know a lot of artists struggle with people.

18. something you feel like you need to work on?

Lower-leg anatomy, and literally everything other than people. There's a reason I usually draw memes.

19. where do you find inspiration?

Things I like, my faith, the world around me, and music especially. And memes.

20. is your workspace, digital or not, organized (not neat, organized)?

In a manner of speaking. Everything has its place, and I have a system for the order in which I draw.

21. what do you think your artstyle would taste like?

Well, @luke-shywalker once described it as looking like it would taste like candy. I personally think it would taste like. Woodsmoke. Or something like that. Maybe like,,, the smell of sawdust. If that makes sense. I dunno.

22. do you have a favorite color palette to work with?

Rich but muted colors. Or like, blacks and whites with a single splash of highlighted color. You know? Like this one.

23. how many artstyles can you work in confidently?

At least two: one that leans more towards realism and one that leans more towards the cartoonish side.

24. whats a compliment about your art that has always stuck with you?

I've often been told that my drawings look statuesque, like they were hewn from marble, but in a good, regal way. This is my favorite compliment to get.

25. what size canvas/paper do you use?

Literally all of them.

26. what do you physically draw with (pencil and paper, tablet, etc)?

Mechanical pencil or like, a very finely sharpened traditional pencil for all my sketches. For my more formal pieces, I usually go over the sketch with micron pens.

27. do you ever have multiple wips going at once?

All the time every day.

28. whats a piece you would like to redraw at some point?

THIS ONE :D

29. do you use a lot of references while drawing?

No. I have most characters committed to memory and I can usually figure out poses. That being said, I do use references for difficult poses or when I can't figure out what exactly to draw.

30. whats something youre proud of about your artstyle?

I alluded to this earlier, but I'm happy that I can have a realistic but still stylized art style. And I like how I draw faces.

31. which fandom have you drawn the most for?

Uhhhh I think it's Star Wars at this point. However, I did draw a lot of Gravity Falls art back in the day, so between that and The Legend of Zelda I think it's pretty close.

32. have you done a lot of collabs?

Unfortunately no :( If anyone would like to rectify that, I'd be more than happy to do stuff with you!

33. have you taken a lot of classes for art?

I am mostly self-taught, but I did take art classes from preschool all the way through eighth grade, and Intro to 2D, Painting I and II, Intro to 3D, and Ceramics I in high school.

34. whats something you still like from your old art?

I love my vivid colors (this is mostly in my old, unpublished art). And I think back in the day, my poses were much more dynamic.

35. if you had one piece of advice to give your younger artist self, what would it be?

Don't beat yourself up over your art not "being as good as everyone else's". I promise you, you'll get to their level someday. Just have fun and keep working hard. Also, your drawings aren't cringe, and you shouldn't be afraid to show them to the people you love.

OUGH that took. So long. But thank you! I genuinely appreciate it so much!

[minban]

❝ i heard people celebrate with flowers and chocolates. ❞ neither option particularly appeals to ren. chocolate is fine, but he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, and while flowers are nice, they seem like an impractical gift for someone constantly on the move. someone like kaveh. he knows he wouldn’t appreciate receiving them himself — unless the giver intended for them to wilt rather than flourish. so instead, what he carries is neither chocolate nor flowers, but a small leather-bound notebook. half the pages are blank, the rest lined, and there’s nothing especially remarkable about it. plain, simple, unassuming — that’s intentional. ren hesitated to hand it over at all. it’s just a gift, or so he tells himself, but he’s never been good at giving gifts that don’t hold at least some meaning. there’s no wrapping paper, only a silk ribbon keeping it closed, but for this occasion, that’s more than enough.

❝ i see the work you do, the places you design and create. they are homes. if not for people, then for moments. i know it’s popular to document your life online these days but i suppose i am a little biased towards pen and paper. this book is for you, fill it with ... anything as long as it isn’t related to work. i know you travel a lot, and i am sure you have a place you feel most tethered to, but perhaps this book can be a second home for your thoughts. just a suggestion of course, you may do whatever you wish with it. think of it as a thank you gift for showing me around the first time we met. ❞

@yingren / valentine's day presents.

"you didn't have to," spills so easily from his lips, though his eyes are glued to the gift and he takes the book into his hands so gently, brushing the leather covered book with a feather light touch. the book is well crafted, made with real leather that will act as a natural protectant from both the elements and the paint and graphite that will no doubt come to soak the pages within. it's a thoughtful gift, one that kaveh finds that he will be using sooner rather than later. carefully, he pulls the silk ribbon until it falls apart and he is able to open the book, admiring the quality of the pages within. ren had said that he was interested in his work, yes, but kaveh had not expected for him to pay so much attention to the materials he had used to think to get him something that will withstand his creative bursts.

crimson eyes flicker back up to ren and he smiles so brightly that his eyes crinkle in the corners. "thank you, ren. i prefer pen and paper as well when it comes to sketching. tablets are fine and all, but i prefer to have the pages and brushes in my hand. it's what i have grown up using, and it still brings me comfort to this day to feel the rough pages against my fingers. this book is made exactly the way i prefer when it comes to paints and watercolors. the pages won't erode with all of the ink and water splattered against it, and the alternating blank and lined pages along with the leather cover are such nice touches. you thought of everything, didn't you?" kaveh chuckles quietly, feeling unbearably fond that someone who he has known for only weeks would gift him something he would actually be able to use in his everyday life. it's practical, and it's just the right size for him to stow away in mehrak and take out should any sights or faces catch his attention.

"i'll make a note on the very first page to use this book only for unrelated work matters, as stated by ren." kaveh holds the book close to his chest as he gives one final thanks. "thank you, again. i'll make sure to cherish it. should we ever meet again, i would love to show you the filled pages of this book with my sketches and thoughts lining each and every single page."

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

HER JOURNEY -- HER STORY -- HERO GIRL.

PIC INFO: Resolution at 1943x2573 -- Spotlight on a Steve Mannion piece titled "Hero Girl," c. 2019.

"A lovely and dangerous looking sci-fi female, as rendered in ink and watercolor over graphite on bright white 9" x 12" Bristol board."

-- HERITAGE AUCTIONS (Comics, Comic Art, & Animation)

Source: https://comics.ha.com/itm/original-comic-art/illustrations/a/121952-19126.s.

[periodinteriors]

Drawing Room of Lea Castle, Looking West, attributed to John Carter (British 1748-1817), c. 1816, watercolor and brown ink over graphite.