(hey, love) i am a constant satellite of your blazing sun
I just realized that all three are fic-based this time around. What.
But mostly I just like drawing fabric. And really girly guys.
Surprise!
Thorns
CRAVATS. CRAVATS ARE BACK, BABY. I WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN.
A couple weeks ago I kind of, uh. Invited myself to continue illustrations of manipulant's Into The Woods (the first one being Second To Last Afternoon two art posts ago). Because she's awesome, she gave me the go-ahead, and because she's really awesome, hopefully she won't mind the continuation of gratuitous creative liberty I perpetually take with her stuff. Hopefully. (If it's way too out there, no worries, we can just pretend this never happened. Or, alternately, let me know if you want the file emailed)
This is for the Rapunzel chapters. I promise the next one (if you're still cool with me continuing) will be way happier.
Scarves
This, like Sunshine Machine, started out as a doodle based around mental images of Gerard Way. Because apparently Gerard Way is what I draw when nothing else will do. But then BBB happened and I got derailed, and really, all I'd wanted to draw was scarves. So I finished BBB and went back to draw some fucking scarves.
Very. Very. VERY. Loosely based around the idea of bexless's I Have Been All Things Unholy, or rather, her whole Unholyverse trilogy. Gerard Way is a Priest. Frank Iero gets the Stigmata. Pete Wentz is attacked with a soul-sucking demon orb. Ray Toro makes organic hair products. It's expertly researched and rife with Buffy references. ♥
Gravity (A whole garden, a whole storm*)
Inspired very directly by jukeboxghost's Hey Gravity! and its sequel, An Inch From The Ground.
I can't even. Just. My heart.
It's that thing again that I do, where I have an all-consuming compulsion to try and articulate some kind of abstract, written metaphor into a single static image. It makes me crazy. I spent like, a month doodling on napkins and the backs of receipts and my hand and stuff before I could even try to do anything about it.
*There’s a whole garden blooming inside his chest, curling around his ribcage, queasy shiver of strings in his belly when they’re alone together, champagne rush of nervous anticipation that he’s content to just bask in.
Hey Gravity!
They pull apart and smile at each other, Spencer’s sweet and lighting his face, and Brendon’s chest is a whole garden, a whole storm. He thinks, there. He thinks, fuck. He wants.
An Inch From The Ground
Thanks to the light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel-is-a-train that is grad school, my free hours to draw suddenly have an expiration date, so I'm going kind of crazy right now. I've been drawing in pretty much every free second I have left to me, at work and otherwise, and I'll probably keep on doing it until the hour I leave for Chicago. I'm re-developing raptor-hand; an occurrence that's lain dormant since my last term at SCAD. It's kind of thrilling.
regonym, I still owe you an Elizabethan ruff. I haven't forgotten.
And, as is my usual routine, now I'm going to sit around and fret about whether or not to actually show the non-Rapunzel two to the authors who inspired them. Or I could just continue to skulk around like a huge creeper.
As usual, I'll email/whatever full versions upon request.