yesterdream

[yesterdream]

Ohmygod, I just had a revelation.......

If I want even eyebrows

I can pick the eyebrow I like best

Then trace its shape onto some paper and cut that out

Then flip the paper shape and use that as a guide to block in/fix the shape of the OTHER eyebrow...........

AH..............AAAAAAAAAAH................

Well it looks like I am going to try this today

Ruethin’s faceup is coming along (the blushing is looking pretty nice actually) but we’re still kind of only halfway there.

[yesterdream]

Well, I have ordered Vince a Tommy Gun

because

he’s gotta have one.

*g’snert*

[yesterdream]

Also HOOOLY MAIN, Ruethin’s doll EFFIN’ SHIPPED.

So like watch it get stuck in customs for like A MONTH

And then watch me and the post guy play cat and mouse while they keep delivering during a day when I’m not home to sign or something pfffff

But, even once he gets here, we still have a ways to go, yeeeep.

[yesterdream]

OOOOOH SHIT XD 

Dear friend, sharing accessories of the Hierophant for you! ‘2020′series -the Hierophant will release in recent days. Hat and Holster are included in the clothes, shoes can be purchased separately. Please look forward! More information: http://www.ringdoll.com

Any questions,please let me know.Email:sales@ringdoll.com

[yesterdream]

Wig stufff

I cinched the back of it, so now the wig fits snug! Woooo! And tugging the bangs down looks a little better, but stilllll should hem that dang thing. Also, not sure if that was just from tugging the wig to move it too much, bit it looks like the right side is a little lopsided. This does bring up another point: symmetry. Going back through some of the tutorial vids I watched, it’s suggested that after cutting out the pattern, the center strip should be folded in half and cut so that it’s even on both sides. Then also, I only need to cut out one side part since both should theoretically be the same. Makes sense.

So, notes to take away from this:

Lower hairline

Make the pattern symmetrical

Perhaps pinning the pattern around the doll’s head after cutting it out to make any necessary adjustments for size?

Also, hemming...!

So, I’m probably going to swing by Joe Anns to get some cheapo faux fur to practice a little more.

This is all in prep for Ruethin’s wig. Which I think I’m going to have to hand make since I’m not thinking his particular style is going to be out there. He’s a carrot top, like full on, so I actually need that bright orange. Also, he has a tuft of hair that is longer on one side, so the cut is going to be a little peculiar. tch, these fur wigs make the head look huge, tho... But maybe I can find some decent stuff out there.

It’ll probably be a miracle if I actually do find orange faux fur that actually looks okay, though. :\  I have been seeing a lot of tutorials where people glue the hair directly to the wig cap. That looks so dang messy, though. >___o And so friggin’ time consuming... Ruethin’s hair is a bit poofy, so I think the faux fur look could work for him... just going to see how that all turns out. 6_9 Well, I probably have like a good six months to get all this worked out before his doll even gets here pfFFFFF

[yesterdream]

Tried my hand for the first time ever at making a wig---and nope, not really a success. xP

Did the masking tape to make a print trick...

First mistake... I guess I should have flipped one of the left/right side pieces over...? Because when it got to the sewing part, I had the faux fur on the wrong side...

Yep... one of those left/right pieces should have been flipped over before tracing/cutting the fabric.

First of all, it does not stay on her head to save a life. I have tape holding it to her at this time. Despite how tight the taped cap was when I pulled it off, this dang wig is loose as hell.

Second, I totally get why people hem the edge of the wig. It looks waaaaay sloppy otherwise if you’re not pushing all the hair down.

Third, hairline is waaaaaay too high. So I’m figuring, unless you are really going for a visible shape without bangs, lower the hair line. Maybe that’ll help hold the wig onto her head better.

I kind of wonder if I could take some strip of elastic and sew that into the hem. orrrrr, perhaps I can do some tailoring work on it. No reason why I can’t add some more stitches to the thing. But yeah, I need a lower hairline so that there’s some material that actually keeps this thing on her head...

Also, I don’t think it’s worth it trying to shape the headcap around her ears. Just a straight line would be much better and much easier to do without making a mistake. All in all, a learning experience fer sher.

Also, here is my MNF Lishe. Her poor eyelashes. T__T

[yesterdream]

WELL............

I GUESS I TOOK A DIVE.............

It’s been literal years since I purchased a new doll.

............

WELP...........

[yesterdream]

Eliza and Nicky draw on a sheet of paper taped on the wall. Eliza doodles some Gorillaz, a zombie, dragon, and an octopus. xP

Nicky draws the yard, where in it, there’s grass, trees, Eliza, Maple, an airplane, and a giraffe. x’B

[yesterdream]

When Nicky Drew on the Wall

In the kitchen doorway that led into the living room, Vincent froze. Across from him was a scene just disruptive enough to acutely snag his attention. It wasn’t life shattering or even world ending—in fact, it was exemplary of simple innocence. But to Vincent’s vexation, it was just enough to amount to villainous mischief.

Sitting on the floor, right next to the open door of his room, was the busy child Nicky. Occupied with his own work, the two-year-old had managed to ruffle the quilt blanket underneath him, having done so every time his little body had twisted and turned to face the wall or to pick up one of the crayons that laid scattered around him. There was a gentle scratching that occurred each time Nicky lifted one of his crayons up and dragged the waxy tip back and forth across the drywall. Large, periwinkle curves arched over the child’s head, while other patches of scribblings fractured the blank, white surface just in front of him.

To Vincent, it was utterly garish and, what was worse, wholly infuriating. Not only was it an insidious mess, but also every scrawled line was an intrusive violation of the pristine surface that had originated. The clean, white slate was now polluted with disruptive, uncoordinated linework that did not even fashion itself into any coherent pattern. It was pure, inconsistent chaos, nonsensical in its essence, and altogether offensive.

Yet, the man did not move from his place, not even to stop the child. Instead, he clutched at the side of the doorframe with one hand, tightly, while a surge of electric anger continued to charge his motionless body. Stark hesitation had ensnared him, and he found himself paralyzed. This petrification resulted from the vivid memory that had instantly struck Vincent upon seeing the boy. A flash of a quiet afternoon in a seemingly empty living room—or was it a bedroom? Whatever the case, there was also a wall there. Tall as it was vast, it seemed to stretch upward into oblivion or, at least, toward some stratospheric level that was irrelevant to him at the time.

He wasn’t sure of the proper age, but he did recollect that this occasion had ensued when he was very young. Vincent assumed that he must have been no older than Nicky was, now; perhaps he had even been the same age. What he recalled more specifically was the dark green marker that he clutched in his hand. It had a dull smell, he remembered, but not a scent that could be easily identified. Other details that stood out in his mind included the way in which the sunlight from the opposite window barred the carpeted floor, the barely audible sounds of an old television set from another room, and the slow-going afternoon that had been the primary influence behind his decision to engage in any manner of activity so long as it was constructive.

In fact, Vincent could recall what he had drawn on that wall. It had been a bird of some kind, a few of them, really, as they had been on his mind since he had heard their continuous chirping all that morning. He could even remember lying in that crib, looking up at the window and seeing nothing but white sky beyond it while hearing a few tree branches sway in the breeze, and, then, the aforementioned chirping. The moment had lasted for some while until his mother had entered the room. Eventually, her oval face and dark, curving hair loomed over him, blotting out the light of the morning until she had lifted him out of the crib.

She stood, now, in the room with her hands on her hips. A towering figure of wonton authority that directly contrasted his minute and more vulnerable size.  The dark dress swayed freely at her slender knees while a thick, red belt cinched her waist. She had yelled at him, although now Vincent could not recall exactly what she’d said. Some tone of anger relayed her displeasure with his actions, then the quick yank of his marker from his hand, followed by a swift and stinging strike to his face, verified the manifestation of her fury. He recalled being pulled off the floor and walked out of the room, then—and that was all.

Now, by some quirk of fate, Vincent was facing himself. A surreal leap back in time had him mystically placed in the presence of his past. Nicky had a profound likeness to him, which was mostly evident in his sandy brown hair and dark hickory eyes. There was a decision to be made, although, while it ought to have been simple and obvious, Vincent’s mind had twisted it into a stalling complication.

At the time, during that day, he had known no wrong and had enjoyed his moment of artistic expression. The activity had calmed him and kept him invested. There had even been a sense of pride within him that he had enjoyed. He could remember that very distinctly.

However, a livid anger so very desperately urged Vincent to rush at the child. Before any further damage could be done, Vincent’s neuroticism screeched for him to remove the toddler’s vandalistic tools immediately. But that was what his mother had done. A prevalent stubbornness forbade him from mimicking her actions. She was a disruptive harpy in his mind. Just as intrusive as those ill-fitting marks that crisscrossed and corrupted the once clean surface of the wall.

His anger swarmed him, but he resisted its influence. This did not, however, spare him of the slight tremor that began in his shoulders and arms as he still grasped at the edge of the doorway. He had clung to it as if it were a grounding instrument. Though, by now, it seemed to act more as a vacuum that devoured his will and so hindered him from deciding on a proper course of action.

The entire time, Nicky had been completely oblivious to his predicament. Mildly picking at the edge of the ripped paper near the tip of one of his crayons, the boy only looked up when he’d finally heard a vocalization. But it was one that did not come from Vincent.

“Yikes!”

The gasped word had drawn Nicky’s attention—and Vincent’s, too, though he hadn’t bothered to turn his head. Carrying an empty glass, Keenith had emerged from the dining room, having just pulled himself away from his own work, an endless chore of pouring over numerous accounting spreadsheets for his business.

He had immediately spied Nicky on the floor with his crayons, but an odd sense had also pulled Keenith’s attention toward Vincent. The man seemed to be no more than a single frame of himself, and by observing Vincent’s uncharacteristically dithering state, Keenith could tell that something was wrong. He knew instantly that it had to do with the scribbled crayon on the wall, but his instinct knew not to introduce any further stress to the situation. So, Keenith made his way over to Nicky, knelt beside the boy, and in a melodic tone, he commented, “Uh-oooooh.”

Nicky looked up at Keenith questioningly, then followed Keenith’s hand with his eyes to the marks on the wall as Keenith pointed them out.

“Looks like you drew on the wall, there, buddy, but you’re supposed to draw on paper. That’s an ‘uh-oh.’”

“Uh-oh,” Nicky parroted, and Keenith grinned back at him with a nod.

“Yeah, that’s right, we can’t do that. It’s gotta be on paper.”

Nicky looked back at the wall with uncertainty. A conflict had begun to bloom in the child’s mind as he puzzled over how he could still possibly continue his drawing.  There was a want for it, but Nicky did not wish to violate the forbidding “uh-oh.” Contemplation shown in the toddler’s eyes, which equally stirred Keenith’s own thoughts until finally an idea snapped his attention.

“Hey, little guy, you sit right here, and I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t do anything with these until I get back,” Keenith motioned to Nicky’s crayons, and the little boy answered him back with a cooperative “okay.”

The spirit of inspiration had Keenith up again, and he slipped by Vincent in the doorway to cross the kitchen, place his glass in the sink, and head toward the basement. As he passed, Keenith had graced Vincent’s arm with his hand and had given it a slight squeeze. That quick taste of comfort finally persuaded Vincent to allow himself a hint of relief, and after Keenith disappeared down into the basement, Vincent, although still persistently mute, made his way into the living room. He sat down in the recliner just beside the couch and laced his fingers together in his lap while he continued to observe Nicky. The toddler simply seemed content enough with continuing to pick at the paper wrapped around the crayon he still held in his hand.

In just a few minutes, Keenith returned, carrying with him a sheet of unused poster paper, leftover from one of Eliza’s school projects. He brought it to another part of the wall, where he applied a strip of tape to each corner, then he stepped over to Nicky, picked him up, and brought him to the newly prepared workspace.

“There you go, buddy. What do you think, huh? Now you have paper on the wall right here. So you can draw on this, now, okay? Is that good?”

Thoughtfully, at first, Nicky stroked the poster paper a few times with his tiny hand. The boy then turned a wide grin to Keenith and answered, “yeah.”

Keenith smiled back to him and planted a light kiss on the child’s head before lightly ruffling his hair. He then brought Nicky’s quilt over and the rest of his crayons, while the young child had already eagerly returned to his work. When everything was settled, Keenith finally approached Vincent, who had remained seated and watchful the entire time. A sharp, yet wary intensity shown in his eyes; his jaw was stiff, tightly clenched, and he seemed to be deeply pressed into the chair.

Paper on the wall.

The solution that Keenith had conjured had been so generous and peaceful. Apart from everything else, it had been obscenely simple. The benevolence of his actions was so profound that, in small part, it had left Vincent with a bitter realization—that it was unfair. During that innocent day, so long ago, he had endured punishment, but the possibility of peaceful resolution, instead, had always been there all along.

Vincent’s upset was clear to Keenith, although when asked if he was okay, Vincent only answered by giving a single, slow nod of his head. Silence was most often his cover when it came to matters that reached just a little more deeply under the skin. So Keenith let him be, though not without an understood promise that he would clean up the markings left on the wall by Nicky later. Keenith was offered another quiet nod, which he accepted with a gentle smile before placing a soft kiss on Vincent’s temple. The affection caused the man to half squint, but by no means was it an expression of rejection. Sensing that the situation was mitigated, Keenith retreated into the dining room, where he sat down to continue with his work.

In Vincent’s mind, Keenith was a wizard. A genius. He was stoutly convinced that no other man with greater wisdom on this earth could possibly exist.  

[yesterdream]

~Vince taking babby duty~

[yesterdream]

~suave~

[yesterdream]

Admiring one’s “bounty”.

[yesterdream]

Catching up on some photos. xB These were done for V-Day (somewhat belated).

[yesterdream]

I keep honing in on the IOS Sezz.............

**EDIT**

YOOOOOOOOOO

Angell Studio David, LOVE THIS FACE............

I even like the spindly hands because of those long fingers, but the body...... :\  Kinda weird. And this ol’ guy ain’t THAT muscular, tbh.

Yeah, probably going to have to hybrid this guy. AGAAAAINNNN.... Never just as easy as getting the full doll in one fell swoop. >___> Well, who knows what else is out there, but right now, this head is a top contender.

[yesterdream]

Got dis bro here:

Now beginning the long and excruciating quest of finding a sculpt that matches this and I stg I am trying NOT to end up with another IOS head............

[yesterdream]

fek, all of that pink on the bottom brim of his eye should not be there; it’s just wrong..... Why the heck do they sculpt these faces with the eyes sunken in so friggin’ much.........?

what sucks is that I can’t just fix it, now... I would definitely screw up his eyelashes if I tried... the kid looks like an alien with a second set of eyelids (like the dude with the “gills” from Men in Black)... yep, it’s wrong... definitely did it wrong........ no way of fixing it fffffff..... the funny thing is that Eliza has the same thing going on right now, but hers is not as severe, but this, I mean feckin’ hell.... it bothers me because I can see where the pink should actually stop... it just looks way weird... I hate knowing how it should look in my head and just can’t... fix it, now.....

[yesterdream]

OKAYYYYYY..... Tomorrow, maybe get some pics in some natural sunlight, but therrrrreeee....

like one day I need to figure out how to minimize the pink under eye thing because it’s starting to look weird...Both Eliza and Nicky have this, now, and they’re very “hard” lines.... but otherwise, yeah. This kid’s hair is a mop. 6_9 

D’aw lookit that super grainy family.