'Hey! If you listen close enough, you can hear the universe.'
The horizon stretched out like a slumbering god without boundaries above her; it's deep, endless blue canvas dotted with stars vibrant and alive. There were no city lights to obscure the miracle of the sky – the wind rushed through the long grass and caressed her hair. How little she was, and how enormous the world. In the far distance to her left, she saw a busy road, the cars like ghosts haunting it, leaving a blurry trail of light. Not any closer the torment and shouting, her sore body or the grim rooms from another, much less magical world. But here, they were both home. Both him and her.
She leaned against the only tree far and wide with her small hand, and took a deep breath of the pleasant summer night air. She couldn't see him on the other end of the world, she couldn't touch his shoulders to give relief of the pain, but through the silent, yet overwhelmingly loud voice of the world – all that there ever was, ever is and ever will be – she could hear his voice loud and clear.
Not "fail" as in "I failed the challenge", in fact, unfortunately to the every-man's understanding of basic decency and taste, I am in fact up to date. Insult to injury, not only did I successfully produce so far twelve (cheating-tier tiny) pages of abominations, (commonly referred to as "art" on this page, but never let yourself be fooled) they suck even more than my usual stuff, and that's saying something, if I say so myself.
So, prepare for the worst. Brace yourself (although let's be honest: some forms of trauma can't be avoided even by the most careful and prepared either) for "art" done in ten entire minutes, prepare for a galore of mistakes even the "artist" knew and understood as they committed them and didn't give a damn, really just... prepare. Because it's going doooown fast.
On a more serious note, I suffer from the most widespread disease artists usually suffer from and struggle to keep at bay. It's the one and only setback you hear about every day from any artist of any medium and that is the one and only
(the crowd lets out a loud gasp!, a few children start to cry in the back rows, some people flat out leave in protest upon hearing the dreaded word)
(if you guessed "drawing hands" you still kinda get a point tho)
No, but seriously: it's a real thing. As of late, it dawned on me just how much it has really crippled me: it prevented me from creating pretty much anything at all. When a singular piece takes you months to finish, you know you have a problem.
So, with Inktober as an opportunity, I decided that I will make deliberately rushed drawings that I genuinely hate, and force myself to treat them as if they would be perfect; in fact, I'll ink and colour them too, as if! While my main medium is digital, I understand most of you snobby brats frown upon anything non-traditional during Inktober, so I did pencil + marker drawings. So, that is that.
This is really what this challenge is about for me this year (as I plan to participate again next year as well).
I need to get over my obsession over mistakes and the unshakeable and compelling need to start studying up entirely new things to draw from scratch; in fact I just need to get over myself, so my art can actually advance and I can actually finish pieces and go back to studying anatomy, perspective and so on. Like any normal person does. I need to start to learn to let go, and I need to learn how to just finish something. It's high time I do that.
I'm not even exaggerating when I say I let entire years worth of creation and practice flew me by because of my unhealthy fixation on mistakes and starting all over again because "it's ruined and hopeless, I need to tart this anew".
So, Finishtober presents:
(All pics are washed out and lost 99% of their colour vibrancy because my phone decided today was just the right day to be a jerk)
Day 1 (The first three drawings were all created on the 8th, as I was a bit late to the party):
Mr Pumpkin is unaware that Mr Spidey is creeping up behind him to eventually land on his back and give him a good ol' Halloween scare. I guess.
Day 2 (technically still day 1)
If you look close enough, you might notice that there is an entire disgusting self insert attached to those two atrocious hands. I know, it's difficult to spot considering... And hey, on the bright side, there is also a snitch!
Day 3 (still the 8th and day 1 actually, no one cares, I know)
Judge me as you might, I sorta kinda lowkey like it..
Day 4 (it's the 9th now, yay)
This has got to be the single, worst drawing I ever created, ever. Worse than whatever I was scribbling as a toddler with my non-dominant hand with a piece of chalk or anything. This. Takes. The. Cake. Would I ever make something even wortse, you guys should show some mercy and kill me, so I can't sink any lower.
Day 5 (still the 9th)
I mean, at least I practiced hands, right?
Day 6 (9th)
Hand practice intensifeyed. Eyesee nothing else worth pointing eyet.
Day 7. (9th still, for "shy" prompt)
Somewhat inspired by Casper, but the ghost miraculously inherited the magnificent jawline of John Lennon through the mortal device of my unsteady hand that accidentally over drew that line by a huuuge margin... It was meant to be, I'm just too basic to comprehend the will of pure fate. Also, Omen can't draw baseball hats. Or hands, for that matter, but that's not news
Day 8 (9th for "crooked" prompt)
To ease up after all this emotional roller coaster of having to look at my worst drawings ever, I decided to get back into my comfort zone for a minute and draw something I am confident in. Then, with an overwhelming feeling of sheer terror, I realised I have no such thing, so I just drew Snape instead. I tried some pretentious arty-fartsy bullshit colour game too: in Harry Potter the green+purple colour combo is a sign of magic (wizards would wear this combo in muggle areas to signal to other wizards their presence without much drama), where green means evil and purple means good magic. And also how daddeh Snape is such a dual character so it fits. I guess. Also, his nose is crooked. He was a little bit crooked too. Ehhhh.
Day 9 (the 10th, "screech" prompt)
This sad creature is actually a screech owl. It is named as such, because since I drew the poor things, the world hasn't been the same. I apologise Mr owl.
Day 10 (in which I finally catch up to everyone else, hey guys ho-- where did everybody go?) ("gigantic" prompt)
Just because I'm still over the moon that I got a badge on dA for drawing this dusty old meme that I only learned about 178667 years late. Whatever. Biting pear of salamanca.
With such a heavy load of disgusting self-pity you'd think I regressed back to being my old emo teenage self. Truth is, you'd be right thinking that.
Day 12. (todaaaaaaaaaay)
I SWEAR this looked sorta normal as a sketch.
But then I went ahead with everything else.
So, that's it so far! After you're back from your psychologist appointment you had to urgently attend to after looking at these and developing PTSD in an instant, I actually recommend you give a try to this challenge! It can be therapeutic. Or helpful. Or it can make you feel accomplished. Or for practice. I don't know!
it's officially halloween until it's christmas okay?
I also had a go at Inktober today (only 8 days late uhhh). Don't think big, these are tiny, deliberately rushed drawings but at least I feel included in something fun
I was so anxious and angry these last few days that I might have never been when it comes to anything relating to work. How about taking on a woman's worst part of her job for no pay at all because she asked nicely? How about all of this is settled just between her and your boss, you clearly having no say in whether you will actually do this favour or not? Not just for one day: throughout the entire winter, every day! How about making literally half of this woman's pay yet getting no compensiations for anything you've ever done for these two shits?
So yeah, my head could actually explode. People around you love to consider you less of a human with no dignity or desire if you're relatively poor, and very poor compared to them.
Oh and how about getting 14 days off the entire year? Yeaaaaah.. On a less heated but still just as dark subject matter, I've been constantly thinking about death.
I know we all deal with the inevitable prospect of our eventual demise, but I've been thinking through my life, and I have this faint memory of my childhood
when I had this unshakeable, gloomy feeling of utter uncanny that overshadowed me and everything else around me. I've come from a dark, empty space, I just got out of there for a little while but I'm bound to get back eventually - this is how I felt as a little child. Now I wonder could it be that that's the actual truth?
All of this was basically triggered by an article online I've stumbled upon: in it a man describes actually being dead (he genuially flatlined) as a long nap where you feel like time passes much slower than usual. No consiousness, no anything. Blank. Makes not only life meaningless but also it makes everyone and all of our effort meaningless. If you really think about it, does this mean that he actually stopped existing for a few minutes then came back to existing a little more?
How come the same person came back?
Does that mean that he didn't actually stop existing simply lost his self awareness? Because, when you die shouldn't you really stop being you for forever with no chance of reviving the same person that died?
Or is it really just all our brains, and granted it remains intact storing the same memories as before death when the body revives the same personaility is to be found attached to the same body? Is the body the personality as well? Am I really just my brain? Are we really just our bodies? I don't want us to be just our bodies but it seems to be the only logical explanation. It's the only thing that could properly explain this gentleman's experience.
With this, it is also questionable whether dying at a youg age is really so tragic or not. For an eternity you didn't exist - then you existed for a riny little while - and you stop existing for forever, for eternity. With proportions so extreme, does 4 years or 400 years even makes sense? In contrast to that infinity we would be still laughable if we could live for a century even. And it's all for null: once you're dead everything is deleted. You are really a blank painting that
should have never been painted as the canvas will be burned after your time is up, so what was the point to paint you? Why do we even live? So that we can
spend this time knowing soon we will be deleted? To be given just enough time to comprehend what it means "not to be"?
I don't blame anyone who believes in God, Heaven and Hell or Reincarnation: the truth seems to be unbearably insulting and cruel. So what if some people believe in the magic man in the sky or endless lives? At the end of the day we will all face the same, unbelievably harsh and cold reality. Isn't it better if at least some of us go into it all naively thinking the demise of their bodies won't mean it's the end of their minds/souls/spirits/conciousness?
So, yeah, this is the sort of weak mental gymnastics crap I'm torturing myself when cycling back home after a long, ungrateful day surrounded by long-faced, ungrateful people.
Camouflage - How do you feel?
How do you feel
My old friend
Touching the Universe?
What do you see
When you travel
Back on floating steel?
How do you feel
My old friend
Lost in the atmosphere?
What does it mean
To be seen
As just a silver stream?
So, I actually forced myself to finish something (shocker), although you can clearly tell I was working from top to bottom, and lost patience halfway (that belt only having a basic shape drawn is a dead give away), but hey, it's done. Too sharp edges, nothings detailed, but I got something onto the screen, and it's done. Hopefully the more I draw the faster I can work, so I will still have the mood to add in details (or just draw something normally). But for now, this trash is coming at you.
On a side note, when I started to work on this piece abomination, I was heavily tring to get a Dapper Corgi hatch, which finally happened thanks to the amazing people on wiz central, to be more specific, Eric Lionheart, who spared no time or effort giving some 3 or 4 (!!!) hatches out so I could finally cuddle with my virtual corgi.
Talking of wiz, these latest attacks are disheartening. The entire community just feels... threatened. It's all weird, because unlike in Mabinogi, Wiz actually has a very welcoming and kind community that loves to give and connect with others. Why would we be targets of such things? This person allegedly attacked that resurrection attempt of Club Penguin, named Club Penguin Generations or Rewritten...? I am completely ignorant to anything CP, so sorry if I got things all mixed up! But what's the point of attacking people you know wouldn't hurt a fly? If you are already hacking, why not trying to tackle issues where help is needed: catching online predators, child molesters, scammers? This is all just pointless.
So, work just got pretty crazy, my coworker simply refuses to work so I have to do everything...? All in all, there was some minor hiatus in terms of creating stuff, but I did make some progress here and there ~
This atrocity, for example, is in the making (ignore my comments to myself on the left):
One of his hands are noticably more yellow than the other, crazy coloured hair as always, and what's wrong with his right hand anyways, is it cramping up? So, to sum it up, a perfect representative artwork from yours truly, and it's not even halfway done!
So, I've been active lately in terms of practicing and drawing, altough most of it is trash, of course. Regardless, I sort of want to leave a mark on here that I was actually trying to get better at drawing, so here are a few things I've done ~
The pics were made using my lame, dying phone, so sorry about the potato quality. Evereything gets bigger when clicked ~
In which one can learn that I was cold when drawing, and I find the word "screech" creepy (I wasn't planning on uploading this page originally lol). I now just realize there is some portion of the page that still didn't make it into the pictures
One of those doodles made it into my very first ever sketchbook, and is currently horrible and I want to tear that page out, but first, my very first finished page in mentioned sketchbook (which is this tiny, pocket sized, low quality thingy we got for free when purchasing Túró Rudi lol)
Is good old Dylan Klebold (I am NOT a columbiner).
I thought I want to make a mark of this era of my life when I am interested and actively reading about the massacre. Highlight of the day is that HORRID GREEN FINGERPRINT I accidentally left on it... So, the background is just a bunch of gibberish lyrics from pumped up kicks and Vast's Beautiful (as I listen to those two a lot - I don't relate "Beautiful" to Dylan, but to my own era). I used a fountain pen to achieve that transition thing, by changing the ink in it, altough it doesn't show up on this poor quality picture, but from top to bottom it changes from blue to green. Funny thing is, I have no idea how the green ink ended up on my left ringfinger: I double checked it when I was making the background to avoid smugdes. It's a mystery...
And the random eric on a cloud for no reason at all (no, I don't think he's an angel if anything lol)
it's so bad I wanna tear it out lol
But hey, look, here's a good song:
Echo Image: Need to be Proud
Falling like grey leaves do
She felt the walls tumbling over her soul
She has no words to say
She felt the presence of another black day
Need to be proud of what you are
But you're flying by
Hope you won't try those things again
But your words are flying high
Trying to figure out
Why things went wrong
Why she has nothing left
She wants to see the light
But shadows drags her
To another black place
I can hear the universe ver. 0.01. beta state
Design kód: LindaDesign
Háttérkép (bejelentkezés szükséges): Klikk
Nyitás: 2005. július 28. Téma: nyitáskor Sesshoumaru, utána animék, utána ezotéria most meg (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ Nem vagyok nagy design-huszár, így ha el van minden csúszva, elnézést kérek :(
Jelen oldal tíz éves múlttal büszkélkedik, javarészt blogként funkcionál manapság. Különösebben nem érdekel hol van a határ a személyes bejegyzés és a cikk között, így a "blog" szót csak finoman használnám. ;)
Emelett megtalálhatóak még itt írásaim, régi blogjaim és rajzaim is. Régen foglalkozott az oldal animekkel, mangákkal, filmekkel és egyebekkel teljes gőzzel, ezek a tartalmak továbbra is elérhetőek. Nem mind az én munkám, egy ideig társ-szerkesztőm volt.
Néha magyarul, sometimes in english. Úgy is a bejegyzéseim java része just a bunch of ramblings and bitching, you're not missing out of bármi érdekfeszítőből.
Gportál is love, gportál is life