They never could quite make sense of her. Rarely did her behavior warrant a reprimand and yet she wasn’t quite what they wanted her to be. She was strange. Her essence demanded attention, whether she meant it to or not. Just when they thought they had no use for her, they put her on the stage.
Crayola Crayon & Free Hand
They never could quite make sense of her. Rarely did her behavior warrant a reprimand and yet she wasn’t quite what they wanted her to be. She was strange. Her essence demanded attention, whether she meant it to or not.
Just when they thought they had no use for her, they put her on the stage. Suddenly they cheered for what had once befuddled them. The fire they had fought to extinguish was now a flame they clambered to take credit for igniting. It was a fury that gathered crowds, sold tickets, sparked talk all across town, and so the crowds grew and grew.
To be clear, they still hardly approved of her. How could they approve of what they did not understand? But that which they saw they admired. And they no longer asked her to change.
If she likes you, she’ll tell you.
If she’s hungry, she’ll eat.
No sugar-coated words or fake smiles from her teeth.
When her body craves motion, she’s quick on the move.
You know she’ll be dancing; You hope it’s with you.
American sweetheart with some spice to her sweet.
Apple pie on a Sunday where the fallen saints meet.
First came the glorious pack of discount colored pens. Felt tip. Vibrant by nature. Mmmm satisfaction.
I was blending and swirling ink as soon as I got the chance.
Next came a gift from my favorite person:
THE DAILY SKETCH JOURNAL. I like journals… and sketches. I like them daily.
Needless to say, I kissed my favorite person a lot that day. Then again, I kiss him a lot everyday.
And now here I am, pen in hand, sketching away. I love lines that are bold. Thick. Black. Unflinching. I also like cute owls and girly designs…. So here’s day 1 & 2:
It’s amazing what a blessing it is to add ink to paper. My mother used to tell me to count my blessing when I was sad, or homesick, or simply needed something nice to think about as I fell asleep. Pretty much, I was encouraged to always count my blessings. There are far too many to count, but for now, I’ll name just a few:
Paper, pens, love and a boy who encourages me to take hold of these blessings daily.
Drew up a quick design for the Charcoal Squids.
“We’re a four piece indie band based out of Moscow, Idaho. Hearty folk influences and nautical amounts of passion. Classic Pacific Northwest noise.”
Check them out at:
Just updated this today!
Other Sites from Yours Truly.
It’s a few links for other ways to view my work, as well as an invitation to give me a hollar if you’d like me to look at (like, follow, etc.) your art or writing. Check it out and as always, enjoy 🙂
She had blue skin,
And so did he.
He kept it hid,
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by–
And never knew.
Show your blue.
The sad, the strange,
the unbroken unchained,
the playful, the wild,
that zealous inner place.
It’s not a blue made only for you, so love it and share it in all that you do.
They won’t like it, you see.
Most of the others.
Too much blue makes you strange.
Amidst the beige covers.
You’re thinking too much to stay still like the rest,
And loving too deeply
All this blue in your chest.
And for every day embracing your blue,
The others uncertain and wary of you,
You only grow stranger and more like yourself.
Blue bounces off cupboards and ceilings and shelfs.
There’s too much blue to hide anymore,
So you scramble for shards of masks on the floor,
But another soul that’s been there all the while,
Shows his blue too and two blue just smile.
This is Chloe.
An ever-dramatic soul. Lover of theatre.
She has more passion than she knows what to do with, is always in motion, and is always ten steps ahead in her mind.
Also, she likes Star Wars.
And dance shoes.
When I asked what color she wanted to represent her eyes, she said “Gold” instantly.
She always is seeing shining lights… Stay gold, Chloe. ❤
Sitting in bed, beer in hand, wishing away the time.
The beer would be better out of the bed,
And the bed would be better with a boy.
Sitting in bed, guitar in hand, wanting a little more time.
The song would be better on a stage instead,
And the bed would be better at night.
Sometimes people ask me why I use “unrealistic” colors in my shading. Well, because it is a painting, and if I wanted it to look like a photograph, I would take a photograph.
But I digress. This is Lucy. I think she looks like a beautiful elfin princess. And watercolor suited her.
Requirements from commissioner:
Make it scary.
Have it done by Tuesday.