The loom of sleep rests softly in the air,
Thy eyes are blackly smudged across thy cheek.
The dreamy light will glitter in thy hair,
The silver sound will murmur as we speak.
The soft of silence curls contentedly,
Our words no more than aimless musing whim,
Our fingers twine together idly,
My breath is soft against thy sleepy skin.
Our world is where I wish that we could stay,
The darkness safe and soft beneath our bones.
Will we live long enough to feel the day?
When sunrise comes, will I still be alone?
How long can my heart hold its leaden cargo?
Will you be here, if not today, tomorrow?
I used the (rather dusty) poetry-writing part of my brain a little bit today. Iambic pentameter is actually pretty fun to write in once you get the hang of it. I suppose this isn’t my usual content, but damnit, it’s my blog and I shall post what I like.
So I participated in a SCAD summer course over the last week and I know that’s an awful picture of the final exhibition but whatever.
I initially considered figure drawing, but I saw sequential art was also an option and after I finished flashbacking to the Bad Comic Book Style Spree of 2014 I chose that one instead.
I was pretty fun. I drew a thing.
So the 18th century was a wild time.
Let’s pretend fantasy creatures had some kind of alternative fashion because I didn’t use a real reference picture for her outfit and I’m sure there are historical discrepancies
I currently do not own any oil/acrylic paints so I bastardized my watercolor set instead by just not adding water to most of it. I probably shouldn’t do that again.