By Brom. Go do it. You know you want to.
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Friday, 30 October 2009
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Sunday, 8 February 2009
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Vimes!
Vimes!
Vimes!
Vimes!
Yeah.
I'm being fangirly.
Shaddup.
(Vimes!)
Heh.
O. Uh...here's a piccy of Jono Strange. Oyez. Ginger magicians! It's a WIP.
Vimes!
Vimes!
Yeah.
I'm being fangirly.
Shaddup.
(Vimes!)
Heh.
O. Uh...here's a piccy of Jono Strange. Oyez. Ginger magicians! It's a WIP.
Monday, 2 February 2009
Uh...
Just some weekend sketches.
I KNOW Gavroche is meant to be an underfed little minger, but...but he has a cheeky smile and hollow eyes. Soh. Yez.
As for the other...well...I don't know. He has some rawkin hair, though. And a cruel mouth. Which is always good.
Uh...probably about forty minutes spent on each.
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Losing No Faith
In case you were wondering.
These are for you. In order, we have:
1. Study after WJSolha's 'Study in Gold,' only, without the beard. Seriously, have you ever tried painting facial hair in watercolour? It is a pain. As evidenced by
2. The Tricolour. Yes. I would like to say it was influenced by some real feeling of revolutionary right, as moved by something pontificating like The Rights of Man, or even by Les Misérables, but I think we all know that I just really, really like Enjolras. *blushes* Next we have
3. a WIP, the preliminary sketch of a study after Michelangelo Buonaroti (sic?). It will, eventually, be in oils, if I am not entirely embarrassed by it, more WIPs may be forthcoming. If I can be arsed. And, speaking of studies after Renaissance masters, I figured
4. this would be in order. It's a study of the hand from Leonardo da Vinci's Lady with an Ermine. This is also a WIP, first underpainting. Trust me, you are much better off for not having seen the abysmal sketch. And lastly, to scorch your eyeballs, is
5. something with no title. Also a WIP. This is the last underpainting layer (the fourth), and from here on out we will be experimenting with glazes. Wish me luck.
Soh...that is mostly what I've been busy doing, beside being influenced (unfortunately) by mah Betsy, whose big arse fetish is rubbing off (yeesh, bad phrasing) on me. I sketched the little cutest little Cirque de Soleil type bird with a puffed sleeve bodysuit or something. And the rawkingest headdress. Or hair. Not sure which to make it.
Anyhow, just so you know that I'm not entirely through with drawing and painting androgynous boys. Cause I'm sure that's very important to the lot of you.
These are for you. In order, we have:
1. Study after WJSolha's 'Study in Gold,' only, without the beard. Seriously, have you ever tried painting facial hair in watercolour? It is a pain. As evidenced by
2. The Tricolour. Yes. I would like to say it was influenced by some real feeling of revolutionary right, as moved by something pontificating like The Rights of Man, or even by Les Misérables, but I think we all know that I just really, really like Enjolras. *blushes* Next we have
3. a WIP, the preliminary sketch of a study after Michelangelo Buonaroti (sic?). It will, eventually, be in oils, if I am not entirely embarrassed by it, more WIPs may be forthcoming. If I can be arsed. And, speaking of studies after Renaissance masters, I figured
4. this would be in order. It's a study of the hand from Leonardo da Vinci's Lady with an Ermine. This is also a WIP, first underpainting. Trust me, you are much better off for not having seen the abysmal sketch. And lastly, to scorch your eyeballs, is
5. something with no title. Also a WIP. This is the last underpainting layer (the fourth), and from here on out we will be experimenting with glazes. Wish me luck.
Soh...that is mostly what I've been busy doing, beside being influenced (unfortunately) by mah Betsy, whose big arse fetish is rubbing off (yeesh, bad phrasing) on me. I sketched the little cutest little Cirque de Soleil type bird with a puffed sleeve bodysuit or something. And the rawkingest headdress. Or hair. Not sure which to make it.
Anyhow, just so you know that I'm not entirely through with drawing and painting androgynous boys. Cause I'm sure that's very important to the lot of you.
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Button!
Here's a little WIP from a miniature I'm doing. It's like...three by four inches or something ridiculous like that.
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Okay, mes amis, my faithful little lurve kittens!
I'm back from the other end of the globe, so to speak, with a couple more neck kinks and a couple fewer other kinks. Lucky you, I'm in the mood for a good, old-fashioned ramble.
I know I haven't been blogging regularly for a while, now, and that is, in the main, due to the fact that I almost invariably ramble, like I'm doing now, about nonsense, and occasionally post a photograph of a mindbogglingly sexy person, but I'm going to go ahead and switch it up a little.
Hand to God, you know I adore all you hardworking bassists out there, but really...the way to pick up women is to play the shaker.
I have a couple of poems in the works, but I've got to edit them pretty heavily, except for this one, and only because it's so ruddy short.
Bear with me. Here goes.
dance my quadrille,
shark-like
and sleek
beneath
my palms--
just so.
(finis)
There. Told you it was short.
In other news, I watched the Dark Knight film, and, against my own force of will and determination not to go with the swarm of people who raved about Heath's performance, I'm gonna have to admit, I liked him so much.
So much.
Hotter than ever.
And Christian Bale, for once, didn't give the impression that he was in desperate need of emergency surgery to remove whatever was rammed so hard up his colon, praise God. He was vaguely likeable.
Urb. I would love to post a picture of some deviously brilliant piece of artwork that I've just done, but to tell you the truth, nothing's been very forthcoming. I have a two-hour sketch of an unearthly beautiful man, whom I'm going to be lusting after for quite some time, despite his fictionality, but to be perfectly honest, I've been wanting to go the way of Armin Mersmann for a while now, and draw interesting faces.
Now, if I could only yakk myself over to Michigan and sit at his feet as he draws. That would be a dream come true.
Hold on, just a moment, while I lust after his godlike powers with the pencil.
*insert glassy-eyed stare here*
All right, all through.
Erm...here, though, for your consideration.
The watercolour isn't quite finished, I need some more practise with fabric, and the forearm...well...I wasn't feeling very confident with the muscles. I'll find some reference and finish it soon. It's called 'Youth with Minarets,' and it's a piece in a weird mix of styles. I was experimenting with some really cold-press rough paper, which is why the colours aren't as transparent and brilliant as I would like, but it'll have to do. I only thank God that I wasn't tempted to do it in oils. That would have been a fiasco I don't even want to contemplate.
Okay. Here you go.
I'm back from the other end of the globe, so to speak, with a couple more neck kinks and a couple fewer other kinks. Lucky you, I'm in the mood for a good, old-fashioned ramble.
I know I haven't been blogging regularly for a while, now, and that is, in the main, due to the fact that I almost invariably ramble, like I'm doing now, about nonsense, and occasionally post a photograph of a mindbogglingly sexy person, but I'm going to go ahead and switch it up a little.
Hand to God, you know I adore all you hardworking bassists out there, but really...the way to pick up women is to play the shaker.I have a couple of poems in the works, but I've got to edit them pretty heavily, except for this one, and only because it's so ruddy short.
Bear with me. Here goes.
dance my quadrille,
shark-like
and sleek
beneath
my palms--
just so.
(finis)
There. Told you it was short.
In other news, I watched the Dark Knight film, and, against my own force of will and determination not to go with the swarm of people who raved about Heath's performance, I'm gonna have to admit, I liked him so much.
So much.
Hotter than ever.
And Christian Bale, for once, didn't give the impression that he was in desperate need of emergency surgery to remove whatever was rammed so hard up his colon, praise God. He was vaguely likeable.
Urb. I would love to post a picture of some deviously brilliant piece of artwork that I've just done, but to tell you the truth, nothing's been very forthcoming. I have a two-hour sketch of an unearthly beautiful man, whom I'm going to be lusting after for quite some time, despite his fictionality, but to be perfectly honest, I've been wanting to go the way of Armin Mersmann for a while now, and draw interesting faces.
Now, if I could only yakk myself over to Michigan and sit at his feet as he draws. That would be a dream come true.
Hold on, just a moment, while I lust after his godlike powers with the pencil.
*insert glassy-eyed stare here*
All right, all through.
Erm...here, though, for your consideration.
The watercolour isn't quite finished, I need some more practise with fabric, and the forearm...well...I wasn't feeling very confident with the muscles. I'll find some reference and finish it soon. It's called 'Youth with Minarets,' and it's a piece in a weird mix of styles. I was experimenting with some really cold-press rough paper, which is why the colours aren't as transparent and brilliant as I would like, but it'll have to do. I only thank God that I wasn't tempted to do it in oils. That would have been a fiasco I don't even want to contemplate.
Okay. Here you go.
Thursday, 7 February 2008
Androgyne
The latest addition to my notorious ladyboy collection of creative works. Oh, yes, there will be pretty men. Sorry about the flash reflection. I used a buttload of thinner on the lines.
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
A Well Used Half Hour
Speed painting with the Pixies and 500 Miles to Memphis blaring in the background, noshed in with some Babyshambles and, for good measure, Willie Nelson playing a Rolling Stones cover.
Oils on canvas, with about five shots of rum. Titanium white, yellow ochre, light red, Ventian red, burnt umber, Van Dyck brown, manganese blue, terre vert, and lamp black. And some righteous natural bristle brushes. Lick well.
Tuesday, 22 January 2008
Oh, Gerald!
He is the SEX.
He is IT.
He is BROM.
Observe the hawtness of his many, many muscles!
In other news, who brought this goat in here? You know...that yellow goat I ate?
Osch. I have been watching that clip, and it kills me. Really, really...kills me.
Anyhow, about BROM.
Who is SEX.
And AWESOME beyond ALL THINGS...and whom I am NOT SICK for ADORING...I love him so much.
I could write novels about each of his pieces. Long, loving, deeply psychotic novels, about pretty glass men and whip-bearing angels named Sarafiel and Enguerrand. Oh, yes, there will be naughtiness. And pale men with deeply shadowed eyes and long, dark hair. With mysterious rubies round their throats.
Oh, man. I'm so much more talented than bloody Salvatore. I only wish I had his money, so I could have book covers by lovely, lovely Brom. Sigh.
He is IT.
He is BROM.Observe the hawtness of his many, many muscles!
In other news, who brought this goat in here? You know...that yellow goat I ate?
Osch. I have been watching that clip, and it kills me. Really, really...kills me.
Anyhow, about BROM.
Who is SEX.
And AWESOME beyond ALL THINGS...and whom I am NOT SICK for ADORING...I love him so much.
I could write novels about each of his pieces. Long, loving, deeply psychotic novels, about pretty glass men and whip-bearing angels named Sarafiel and Enguerrand. Oh, yes, there will be naughtiness. And pale men with deeply shadowed eyes and long, dark hair. With mysterious rubies round their throats.
Oh, man. I'm so much more talented than bloody Salvatore. I only wish I had his money, so I could have book covers by lovely, lovely Brom. Sigh.
Wednesday, 16 January 2008
Oosquai?
Mood: English Breakfast Tea!
Listening To: 'Gang of Gin,' Babyshambles
Reading: Wilt, Tom Sharpe
Eating: Toast, with Butter and Honey
Drinking: English Breakfast Tea!
I don't know about you, but I have a thing about drinking tea. Love it. Especially if I can sit beside a hot wood-burning stove and have a ginger kitty with pretty green eyes curl up in my lap with a sort of very peculiar expression which nevertheless expresses 'you know, this is a very high honour that I am conferring upon you. Now, pet me,' exceedingly well.
I do love him, though. He does respond to a whistle, which is more than most cats will do.
Maybe it's a trait peculiar to green eyed blonds. That is, the demand for petting, not the response to whistling.
I've decided to go on a reading kick. I'm completely horrified at the things I've been writing lately, and I don't see a reason to go on unless I hit the 'reset' button. And so, I close my satire comedies, put away Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, Tom Sharpe, even Mikhail Bulgakov, and reach for my good old fashioned anthologies.
Despite this all, I'm still looking forward to a natty piece of political fantasy that's meant to come out in July. Sigh. How the mighty have fallen.
I want to leave you with a pretty picture. So have one, just for you.
Biscuit biscuit!
Listening To: 'Gang of Gin,' Babyshambles
Reading: Wilt, Tom Sharpe
Eating: Toast, with Butter and Honey
Drinking: English Breakfast Tea!
I don't know about you, but I have a thing about drinking tea. Love it. Especially if I can sit beside a hot wood-burning stove and have a ginger kitty with pretty green eyes curl up in my lap with a sort of very peculiar expression which nevertheless expresses 'you know, this is a very high honour that I am conferring upon you. Now, pet me,' exceedingly well.
I do love him, though. He does respond to a whistle, which is more than most cats will do.
Maybe it's a trait peculiar to green eyed blonds. That is, the demand for petting, not the response to whistling.
I've decided to go on a reading kick. I'm completely horrified at the things I've been writing lately, and I don't see a reason to go on unless I hit the 'reset' button. And so, I close my satire comedies, put away Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, Tom Sharpe, even Mikhail Bulgakov, and reach for my good old fashioned anthologies.
Despite this all, I'm still looking forward to a natty piece of political fantasy that's meant to come out in July. Sigh. How the mighty have fallen.
I want to leave you with a pretty picture. So have one, just for you.
Biscuit biscuit!
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
Lavertezzo 1
Life is no burden, and Life is no blessing this time around.
Ominous words, those, and regrettably enough, accurate. If not to you, or to me, to someone. Poor swot.
Well, I'm going to go ahead and post the first WIP of my painting, which will be titled *deep breath* 'The Bridge of Lavertezzo over the River Verzasca.'
All right, here goes. The sketch was done with a .9 mm mechanical pencil over about five minutes, from a couple of different reference shots. I'm still kicking myself over not bringing a camera to Ticino when I went, but PTL, these things will happen. I'm sure I'll manage to be back there at some point.
*Clears throat*
Ahem!
The sky was done mainly with a knife-mixed concoction of titanium white and flake white, manganese blue, and cadmium yellow deep. You can see the streaky yellow bits in the sky. I'm going to go for a Delacroix feel with this baby. Those of you who've seen 'The Sea from Dieppe' will know what I'm talking about. And if you haven't, go look at it. I love that painting. The mountains were gently patted in with a flat number 12 natural bristle, and they involve olive green, sap green, a whole lotta yellow ochre, and a smadge of cadmium red deep.
The bridge is mainly unbleached titanium (something I'm sure is going to come in handy in this little venture, and the brush on the left side is olive green, yellow ochre, the merest hint of mars violet, and burnt umber. I'm going to go ahead and postulate that I'm going to use very little to no actual black in this painting, substituting Van Dyck brown instead (which is something I do pretty often).
Insofar as the composition goes, I'm taking reference from three photographs of this area, mostly for the rock formations, but I'm also drawing from memory. I'm going to go ahead and ignore the fact that this is a fairly active tourist spot, and paint it as though there were no such thing as electricity lines or backpackers.
I don't think you can really see the sketch, but if you can, you'll probably be about as pleased with the composition as I am.
Uh...Yes. I'm aware that it doesn't look like much yet, but those of you who've bollocksed about with oil will probably detect my next moves. Loving you, and Jesus!
Ominous words, those, and regrettably enough, accurate. If not to you, or to me, to someone. Poor swot.
Well, I'm going to go ahead and post the first WIP of my painting, which will be titled *deep breath* 'The Bridge of Lavertezzo over the River Verzasca.'
All right, here goes. The sketch was done with a .9 mm mechanical pencil over about five minutes, from a couple of different reference shots. I'm still kicking myself over not bringing a camera to Ticino when I went, but PTL, these things will happen. I'm sure I'll manage to be back there at some point.
*Clears throat*
Ahem!
The sky was done mainly with a knife-mixed concoction of titanium white and flake white, manganese blue, and cadmium yellow deep. You can see the streaky yellow bits in the sky. I'm going to go for a Delacroix feel with this baby. Those of you who've seen 'The Sea from Dieppe' will know what I'm talking about. And if you haven't, go look at it. I love that painting. The mountains were gently patted in with a flat number 12 natural bristle, and they involve olive green, sap green, a whole lotta yellow ochre, and a smadge of cadmium red deep.
The bridge is mainly unbleached titanium (something I'm sure is going to come in handy in this little venture, and the brush on the left side is olive green, yellow ochre, the merest hint of mars violet, and burnt umber. I'm going to go ahead and postulate that I'm going to use very little to no actual black in this painting, substituting Van Dyck brown instead (which is something I do pretty often).
Insofar as the composition goes, I'm taking reference from three photographs of this area, mostly for the rock formations, but I'm also drawing from memory. I'm going to go ahead and ignore the fact that this is a fairly active tourist spot, and paint it as though there were no such thing as electricity lines or backpackers.
I don't think you can really see the sketch, but if you can, you'll probably be about as pleased with the composition as I am.
Uh...Yes. I'm aware that it doesn't look like much yet, but those of you who've bollocksed about with oil will probably detect my next moves. Loving you, and Jesus!
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
Crows with Measles Committing Suicide
Funny, when I was twelve, I would have thought that was stunning imagery. Now it's just...gigglicious.
Erm...here. This is some really rubbish work, but you might as well see it.
The winter wind is closing fast,
Tracing across my hollow palm.
I drink up the last sun-rays,
Vitamins drench my shining hair.
Like an elliptical dish, the crowing child
Would have eaten your codfish heart.
But you fed it to the crocodiles
Deemed more worthy of your love
Ugh...yes, that is really rubbish. I'm going to be ashamed of it for some time. Erm...something else...aha!
Here's the long-awaited gesture, for those of you I haven't shown it to yet. Reference from Mehmet Turgut's photograph 'Rebel 7.' The painting is called 'The Epiphany of Auntie Sunshine.'
No, actually...it's called 'Prophecy.'
Erm...here. This is some really rubbish work, but you might as well see it.
The winter wind is closing fast,
Tracing across my hollow palm.
I drink up the last sun-rays,
Vitamins drench my shining hair.
Like an elliptical dish, the crowing child
Would have eaten your codfish heart.
But you fed it to the crocodiles
Deemed more worthy of your love
Ugh...yes, that is really rubbish. I'm going to be ashamed of it for some time. Erm...something else...aha!
Here's the long-awaited gesture, for those of you I haven't shown it to yet. Reference from Mehmet Turgut's photograph 'Rebel 7.' The painting is called 'The Epiphany of Auntie Sunshine.'
No, actually...it's called 'Prophecy.'
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