I make little effort to build back the bridges burned. The damage from the fire is just too extensive. The gully just too deep. I cannot build this bridge alone and, unfortunately, I see little to no effort made by my partnership. I am exhausted and I admit I am only mending this or that with half a heart, if even that. This project is only cursed to end in disaster. I have lost all hope. Perhaps it does not help that I am fully self-aware. I know the truth.
I am no engineer. I am a demolition man.
I realize now that there is not one, but two biblical concepts tied to my god character, Demi. The first concept is the whole genesis story. And the second is the betrayal of Jesus by Judas.
So this is my stack of sketches from 2009 to 2011, with a small amount from 2012 on the very top. The stack measures to almost 3 inches in height and the sheets are 8.5x11in, save for three which are 9x12 in.
Yep, well over 500 sheets of paper there. And some sheets have two or three sketches on them. So, basically, a ton of sketches.
Para mi amiga para ver.
Fleas. e___e I think there’s a special place in hell where there’s tons and tons of fleas. And mosquitos. And they’re all invisible. So you’re trying to find your way around and you keep feeling bitten every second (by the fleas) and you notice red blotches on your skin that itch like hell (since you never feel when a mosquito bites you because they spit on you that numbs the area but later on it itches like hell and your skin’s irritated).
With his shirt stain of red growing, it hit her there was probably only one thing she could do to end this. She knew he would try to defend her, follow here wherever she decided to go… to the ends of the Earth and back? Possibly. But the problem was she didn’t want him to. She didn’t want him getting his life mixed up with hers. It made no sense for blood to mix with dreams. And she knew that’s all it would be for them, blood in dreams. A fiction of reality that at one moment would feel soft, fuzzy, and warm, and the next moment, you realize that soft, fuzzy, and warm feeling is caused by the fact that you’re bleeding heavily and are about to lose consciousness.
Her life was cursed but his didn’t have to be. She’d seen all the beautiful things his imagination had to offer. No doubt, he was gifted by his father, perhaps one of the most creative thinkers in the universe. She saw how dark his imagination could go. It was a frightening place and she didn’t want to inspire it of him. But with her life as cursed as it was, that was probably the only thing she’d inspire from him.
So, without word, she got up from the linoleum floor, away from him. He looked up at her with questioning blue hues. Her answer was a blink and turn.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he tried to sit up. It caused him to wince as the action aggravated the bullet lodged into his side.
"Something that should have been done a long time ago," she said.
"What do you mean?" his words came out fast.
She considered speaking but figured silence would make it easier. Then again, that was pointless. Nothing could make it easier. Not now. But in time, perhaps he would understand… He called out her name once and when she didn’t respond, he tried to get up, his feet shuffling around on the floor.
"Don’t," she said.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice more urgent.
She let out a sigh, ceasing her small march toward the glass doors. A few seconds more hesitation passed before she turned to face him, “It has to end.”
"Look, we could keep this up for a few hours at most. There’s no escape. I know because I never planned for there to be one," she said.
He blinked, looking a little taken aback, then spoke, “Don’t give up now.”
"I’m not giving up," she said calmly. "I’m speeding up the process. They’ll take you to the hospital sooner than later."
"Don’t be foolish. I’ll be fine," he said, trying to brush it off. But the fact of the matter was the blood was spreading over his nice clean shirt more and more as the minutes went on.
"I know," she said. With that, she turned on a heel, ignoring further words from the man on the floor. There was nothing he could say now that would change her mind.
Mini Canvas Series (August 2013 to present), a work in progress.
Fromariellej − © ariellej
Here’s before and after shots of one Barbie I rescued from the Thrift Store. This is what I do. I take used Barbie dolls and fix them up. The worse off they are, the more fun they are to fix up. But anyway, this particular doll had her hair every which way. It was actually quite an intimidating mess to look at. But once it got all combed out, it was starting to look a little better. There was a problem with the length, though. Her hair had tons of different lengths, some really long and some really short. So I just lopped it all off and gave her one even straight cut in the back. She looks so much better. I might consider trying my hand at updating her makeup, not sure yet. But in any case, she looks a whole lot more modern.
A quick google search tells me this was likely the Sparkle Eyes Barbie of 1991. If she looked anything like this doll, that could account for her previously fucked up do. She’s looking a lot better, even though she still has some ridiculous bangs. XD
Fromknossus − © knossus
Light & Shadow Story Concept (2011)
The following text is what was written for my Light and Shadow book in 2011. I wrote the story out as an actual textual story that I later took the lines of to determine my sequence of events for the illustrated book.
Light sat on the beach, holding his hand up to the sun, it was setting. He noted the absence of shadow on his hand.
"What are you doing?" He heard a familiar voice.
He put his hand down to his side, looked down at the sand and smiled, “Admiring what I created,” he responded.
He looked up at her, the goddess of Shadow. She was very beautiful, pale, and had darkness surround her silver eyes. Her hair looked majestic and lively. It was windy.
"It’s quite bright, yes," she finally said.
"Yes, I wanted it to be," Light said. He got up from the ground and stood at her side. They stared at the sun for a while.
"It’s beginning to hurt my eyes," Shadow said.
"Good, that was my intention." Light smirked.
"To hurt my eyes?" Shadow asked.
Light responded, “No. Just to make it almost blinding.” He walked out to the waves, letting them run over his boots.
"What is it?" Shadow asked.
"I think I will call it a star," Light said.
"How does it work?"
"It’s made up of matter similar to gas, in which many of the particles are ionized. It’s massive in size, held together by gravity."
"Did Science help you in creating this?" Shadow asked.
"He was developing a concept of plasma, I found it inspiring enough to take further," Light said.
"Is it just this one?" Shadow asked.
"No, I made several septillion stars, more perhaps, over a great deal of time. And stars are born every day."
"Why did you create this?" Shadow asked.
"Light finds a way through the darkness," he responded. "I did this to defy you." He faced her to see her response.
"Why must you always defy me?" Shadow asked.
"To challenge your power, I suppose," Light shrugged.
"I’m far more powerful than you are. This is evident by the darkness of the universe. Had you been more powerful than me, then it would be I creating stars, perhaps black holes, to create absence of light in a blindingly bright universe, not the other way around," Shadow said.
"I never said I was more powerful than you, just that I challenge your power," Light said.
They stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other’s faces, secretly wondering what the other was thinking.
Then Shadow finally said, “Why do you refuse to cast a shadow?”
"Again, my answer is the same as the one to your question pertaining to why I made stars," Light said.
"To defy me?" Shadow asked.
"Yes," Light said. He had his arms folded across his chest now, mimicking Shadow’s own pose.
"Why? You do not like me?" she asked.
"I like you very much, we need each other to exist after all. Light cannot exist without Shadow, and Shadow cannot exist without Light."
Shadow looked away from Light, visibly upset. She looked at the star then said, “It’s moving?”
"No, this planet is moving," Light said.
"Then soon it will be dark?" Shadow asked.
"The star will still be there, we will just be in this planet’s shadow," Light said.
"Sounds abstract," Shadow commented.
"Shadows are abstract," Light said.
"No, light is abstract, trying to define a shadow by different angles. Like now, my shadow compared to your star looks very odd, nothing like me at all. The horizon will not stop abstracting me. Different angles create different shadows," she said.
"So you believe that light controls shadow?"
"I believe it plays a role, but doesn’t control shadow," she said.
"Perhaps you just don’t want to admit the truth. Anyway, we are far off subject. Why did you ask me to meet you here?" Light asked.
"I wanted you to meet someone," Shadow said.
"Someone?" Light asked.
"A new god, I think I will name him Nyte," she said.
"Nyte? What would be his purpose?" Light asked.
"In connection to your star, Nyte will be a period of time when your star is below the horizon of a planet," Shadow asked.
"A very new god indeed," Light said.
"I’d like for you to meet him," Shadow said.
"I have no interest in meeting babies," Light said.
"I think you would like him, though," Shadow said.
"I have my fill of absence," Light said.
"If there were some show of light in the night sky, would you reconsider?" Shadow asked.
"I would," Light said.
"Then create a body less illuminating than your star to shine in a night sky," Shadow said.
"I will," Light said.
"And meet Nyte," Shadow said.
"When will he be here?" Light asked.
"He will be here as soon as that star sets," Shadow said.
"I have no interest in waiting, then." Light walked away.
"BUT!" Shadow started, but let him go. She turned around and waited for Nyte to arrive. He walked down to where she was and asked, "Where is the one I was supposed to meet?"
Shadow sighed, “He didn’t want to wait to meet you, I’m sorry.”
"Oh…" Nyte said. "Perhaps next time, then."
"Perhaps," Shadow said.
And the god, Time, soon let it pass that Nyte and Dai were collaboration that determined the passage of time on large celestial bodies. Light refused to see Nyte for many billions of years, until the concepts of eclipses were created to allow for the both of them to comfortably meet in a compromised setting.
Fromknossus − © knossus
"Who is she?"
Why did it seem that three words could unleash seemingly irreparable harm? That three words could inspire an essay of thoughts in a mere second or two? That three words could force one to see the path of their future divide in a myriad of directions, leaving them bewildered of which path to take?
Though three words could ensue such things, none of that was hinted on his face. He remained motionless and calm despite the turmoil that broke loose within him.
"Is she mortal?" she sprung another question toward him since he failed to answer her previous in quick enough time.
"No," he said in almost a whisper.
"Who is she?" she asked the first question again. It was the same three words yet her annoyance was visibly heightened.
Instead of allowing the venom of such words have its play on his mind, he silenced all previous thoughts and instead addressed another issue mentally. The fact that it caused discomfort was raised to question. What were his options and what could be his consequences? He loved this goddess just as he loved the other but the love for both was different. He always came home to she who questioned him now, yet he was always overjoyed to leave her to see the other.
Perhaps his time with her seemed more obligatory now than anything else, as unfortunate as it was to come to realize. He knew he still loved her, she meant a lot to him, but that affection toward her was perhaps more as a son would feel toward a mother, or grandchild to grandparent. He had questioned his level of morale long before this early morning, a question that he found also difficult to muster an answer for. But it was now that he realized he just didn’t love this goddess the same anymore. Maybe that love was never there. Maybe he only wished it were for her sake, if not his own.
"I am sorry," he said, breaking the silence in the room.
That wasn’t what she wanted, however. She wanted him to answer he question. She glared at him expectantly. “Who is she?”
"You know who she is," he maintained his outer calmness.
For once, her blue cheeks flashed red. He was right, she did know. The fact that he pointed out that she knew seemed embarrassing, almost as if he had said,”That is a stupid question to ask.” And it was for that reason, it made her feel momentarily stupid.
I think the only reason I have not drawn Loki with fire hair—even though he totally wants it, yes—is because of Fayer. I cannot look at fire-haired OCs and not think of Fayer.
He was probably one of the first god OCs who received my attention a lot. And I remember Fayer was a pivotal characters who influenced the direction Anomalies has taken into a permanent change. I mean, when I first started working on Anomalies, I didn’t quite divulge in the “god” concept so much. There were certainly demons and overlords and such, but not gods.
But it was Fayer, along with the rest of the Elemental gods of my Eulogy trilogy that completely altered the direction that Anomalies took.
You see, the mission of Anomalies was originally simply to provide a home to the original characters who didn’t really have a home. And by home, I mean a book to call their own. Anomalies was always going to be a big project for that reason. Fayer and the Elemental gods didn’t count at the time I made Anomalies because they had their own book.
But as time went on, I got to thinking that, no, they didn’t. Not really. So I incorporated the gods of Eulogy and decided to make Anomalies a book series that would influence the religion set in Eulogy.
But anyway, I can’t really think of fire-haired gods without thinking of Fayer. XD