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Twilight Spirits
Posted By Scott at 11/28/2022 10:03 AM

I have been working towards a particular style, perhaps even subconsciously for quite some time. Some highlights were vibrant colours, minimal line weight, lots and lots of detail. It's something I think came from influences and artists I'd admired through the years (Moebius, Geof Darrow). The problem has always been fighting the need to get a post out, get some engagement online versus taking the time something like this needs. When the algorithms shifted, and my online engagements dropped, I sort of disconnected from the whole thing. I stopped posting for large chunks of time (well, larger chunks of time) and really didn't see a point.

More recently, I've come to realize that the joy in a lot of it was gone, and I was just chasing likes on Instagram or Twitter or whatever, even though I'd never had great engagement to begin with. I started drawing again, just for me, and realized that was the point. To create something for myself, to maybe push myself to do something new or challenging, and to not care if anyone noticed. Hell, the irony in writing all this on a blog that I'm not even sure folks check anymore is not lost on me.

This artwork is the result of me slowing down, realizing as close to the picture I had in my head at the time, and just revelling in all the tiny details. I doubt I'd do this consistently in the future, as rewarding as it is it takes a lot of time! However, I am proud of how it turned out, and hope someone, somewhere finds a little joy in it, knowing that I did first and that's all that matters.

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Beverly Hills Cyborg
Posted By Scott at 10/09/2022 9:47 PM

Some t-shirt ad somewhere caught my eye and I wondered 'What would that guy look like with a universe on his head?' A fun little distraction!

Just experimenting with some things I've played around with in the past. It's fun to just draw for me again!

Pentel Sign Pen, Microns, Photoshop

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Heart of a Warrior
Posted By Scott at 9/29/2022 1:36 PM

Just wanted to draw something for fun! I always forget that a good mix of fantastic and whimsical is not a bad thing. I tend to swing to far in either direction. I hope I struck a good balance here.

Pentel Sign Pen and Photoshop.

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Some Posca Experimentation
Posted By Scott at 9/23/2022 4:38 PM

Decided to pick up some Posca markers and try them out! Our whole house was sick over the weekend, so we all had some down time to create some art. I'm sort of in love with these markers! I love that they can be layered easily and the colours are rich and vibrant. Will definitely be experimenting more and picking up even more colours!

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XXXI. Ripe
Posted By Scott at 3/02/2020 4:24 PM

It was nighttime now. The stars were out in a full array of twinkling brilliance. Not a cloud could be seen in the sky.

Old Crow coughed and shuddered. Bits of skin had begun peeling from his face.

Ghost had grown tired of looking at Old Crow. His weak, pale body disgusted him.

“What is your true face, Old Crow?” Ghost heard himself ask, in disbelief. What had he done?

Old Crow bristled. He straightened himself up high upon his favourite branch.

“Why Ghost, I thought you’d never ask.”

Old Crow’s body began to twitch and twist, as if his bones were fighting each other to get out.

Dark black tears began to stream down Old Crow’s face.

He grew then, larger and larger until Ghost paled in comparison.

A deafening hum overtook the forest. The droning sound of a swarm of wasps filled Ghost’s ears. It made it impossible to concentrate, but he dare not look away.

It wasn’t wasps at all.

It was Old Crow, laughing. A deafening cackle from deep within his chest. Whatever he was, whatever he had been had changed.

The burning in Ghost’s chest was gone, replaced by an unimaginable chill. He was weak and helpless.

As he looked upon Old Crow, his true face laid bare, Ghost thought he might just go mad.

And then the stars went out.

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XXX. Catch
Posted By Scott at 3/01/2020 4:18 PM

When Ghost woke that morning Old Crow was gone, his nest empty.

Ghost follow the ragged trail of feather and blood Old Crow had left down to the riverbank.

There was Old Crow, gnawing on a fish three times his size. The fish was fresh, pulled from the river moments before.

The burning in Ghost’s chest was gone once more.

Old Crow paused. He was grinning at Ghost wide now.

“Ask me about my true face” Old Crow teased.

Ghost had been taught better. Whatever Old Crow was, and Ghost had seen bits and pieces of it over the years, it was nothing to be trifled with. No matter what face Old Crow was wearing, and he’d worn plenty, his true face was that of horror. Of that Ghost was sure.

But what had that burning in his chest been if not strength and courage? Even if it had subsided for now, what could this weak, sickly thing do to him now?

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XXIX. Injured
Posted By Scott at 2/29/2020 4:16 PM

Old Crow tried to stand; his legs betrayed him. He crashed down into his nest, now filled with his own withering feathers.

The burning in Ghost’s chest grew. He felt stronger than he ever had since first meeting Old Crow.

Perhaps he’d fly free, for the first time in as long as he could remember.

Or perhaps he’d stay by Old Crow’s side; watch the energy slowly drain from him as Ghost grew stronger.

Perhaps he’d crush Old Crow like a bug.

Had Old Crow smiled just then?

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