Christmas touchings!

From Orlando I return with images of ART PARTY with the elusive LIANA and some other horrifying stuff.

"omg liana, omg omg omg"
some vietnamese pop guy(???????) postered upon the wall outside pho 88, where we ate lunch on Saturday. D8


HAND IN BAD PLACE! D8 at the mcdonalds on idrive (after crappy ice bar. never go there, ever.)


ART PARTY!!!!!!! liana and i stayed up on thursday night drawing!
we decided that we would sketch out a picture, then trade and ink each other's sketches. you can see that i drew anatoly, and she drew adore. 8) up close, you can tell the difference between the two inking styles, far away, you can see her delicious heavy lines. that picture in the middle is spawned from her saying, "LETS MAKE EMILY ART" but i failed and just ended up doing the same crap i always do.


MOAR; is dat sum angry plumz?!


good times. :>

wordy wips.

here are some wips i've been working on writing-wise. i don't post my writing much because it honestly takes me forever to create even a paragraph that i am satisfied with word/image wise. in these i am going for surreal, and such, it will take me a very long time to muster up the motivation and inspiration to elaborate to completion.

for those who know anything about my tastes in literature, i tend to completely adore the types laden with symbolism; the vignettes so thought out that it makes your head spin with confusion of all the ways that a single word can mean in the numerous contexts given. i like pieces with heavy imagery, that make you feel like your skin crawls with every letter thud that rolls from the tongue and along the pages. often times, i feel that i should be so lucky to accomplish this with my writing, but sometimes i get surprised at the fleeting moments of what i like to call brilliance that come to me.

this first is for a solo anatoly piece. it is another dreamlike vision that should soon evolve into a mess of hindustani visions of gods, crime & punishment, heat, red and brown. i drew some images to accompany it on tegaki last night.  i can only hope that this devolves into nonsensical adjective vomit, but we'll see;  i just need to learn to be patient.

amber weavils wove their way down a skinned flesh back in which flickering lights danced upon like graves in a cemetery hall. moonlight candles stretched out smoke fingers who wound a story of curses and contrition, falsehoods and accusations of deeds done past present and future. soothsaying were the scents of the heavy air, clotted with an incense smoke so thick that eyelashes would clump together in tearful hugs, blood vessels engorged, a haughty dry burn, the punctuated sting of sandalwood splinters.

the second is the beginnings of a solo piece for miyahara.  he is supremely paranoid, so i try my best to remember that every little detail is what he notices, and make that apparent in my portrayal of him.

The movement of eleven locks clicked to awaken the silent air like the empty shots of a revolver's roulette wheel. On the twelfth there was victory, the final blow of bullet puncture, a sharp snap of success before Miyahara Taki's door was pulled open less any further deadbolt decadence. Earlier, the thunderous rumble of a rolling knock announced a presence that caused him a twitch in the pits of his stomach-- he didn't have a good feeling about it, thus had waited until the moon signalled the tide's departure to really inspect the situation and see past a peeping port hole in the door to the real, tangible outside world. A light at the end of the hall flickered, strobing a soft beat to the time signature of ⅔/4, L'artisanat furieux spoken in a series of flashing florescent with undertones of the constant red drone and electric hum from the neighboring fire exit sign.

i plan on tying in the poem quoted, Le marteau sans maître.  but again, who knows when i will actually get my act together and finish this stuff.  i suppose i feel the most verbose in the mornings, however, Dir en grey's new song VINUSHKA has also been a great inspirator/motivator to my cause.

hm, in rereading, i used that flickering light shit in both passages. bleh.

rrrrrrrgh.

wip. it's taking so long. :( corel painter is hard. especially since i keep forgetting what brushes i use.

FEH. >:(

Yuri's Yearnings.

my character for a post-apocalyptic game on tegaki. HE'S A COSMONAUT whose soyuz craft crash landed in the water of this city and he sees space fireflies all the time and has gone MAD. He is convinced that barium acetate-laden chemtrails-- courtesy of the IEPA/NASA-- oversaturated the atmosphere and everyone died because that compound is very poisonous. You would always know which city would be next because of the tell-tale fatal cloudy X that would appear above, in the sky.

Yuri Vladimirovich Budarin. :D

AH, CHEMTRAILS.

opiate opacities

some sebastian for ma-malai.

Tegaki Tomfoolery

Quickie Tegaki sketch of Vasilia, an RP character of a friend. Her hat's supposed to be one of those fuzzy Russian hats, but I was way too lazy to actually look at a picture of one.

Fun fact! Read Anatoly's dialogue in Molotov Cocktease's voice! It's hilarious XD

lea[d]evil

how do i drawed straight?
i dunno, lol. :(

highlighter hijinks.

I always feel the greatest desire to draw on tegaki when it's 11AM and I am at work (and only at work, never on the weekends). I suppose this is colored with obnoxious orange and purple because I am longing for the saturated hues of the internet?! I try to make due with the objects at my desk.

Not pictured: A game of chess he is losing. (Perhaps that's why he's so angry.)

Wonky hand is WONKYYYYYY. o lawd.