04 Monday Jan 2016
My last sketchbook was dominated largely by Star Wars and Avengers. This one is mostly Doctor Who–that is, the pages that haven’t been donated to my 5-year-old sister’s art sessions. Whyyyy.
Anyway, here’s a few samples of what I’ve been working on:
Rose and the Doctor, visiting the Smithsonian–a WIP.
28 Saturday Nov 2015
Posted in Artwork, Living Life with Passion
I decided to break out the beads today, and this is what I ended up with… After all, boys are not the only ones who love science fiction and steampunk!
For these Doctor Who and steampunk inspired bracelets, I started with TARDIS blue beads Czech glass beads and added clockwork charms and a natural brass clock face.
Here’s a close-up so you can see what they look like a little bit better!
They’re made adjustable (all except the top one: I made that one to fit my wrist, for me to keep), with lobster claw clasps.
Sadly, I found the brass clock faces in the clearance aisle, so these three are probably the only ones which will incorporate the brass clock face. However, Hobby Lobby does have some alternatives, so if you think a lightly-varnished wood clock face would look nice, please tell me so! I’m planning on selling the lower two bracelets but have not yet decided on a price–it will probably be around $25. They’re not hard to make but the Czech glass beads and cogs were expensive!
They were really fun to make, and kudos to my sister, who suggested the gold Czech glass rocaille beads to match the blue ones. She comes up with some color matches which I would never have thought of, but which really really work.
In other news, my store will probably based out of Amazon Handmade, which is exciting because I’ll be able to reach so many people in a reasonably-secure way. (Don’t call me a prophet of doom, my dad works computer security and risk management.)
What do you think? Please tell me! I’m anxious for your feedback.
24 Monday Aug 2015
Posted in Artwork, Living Life with Passion, Tales of a Wandering Bard
Tags
artwork, cats, doctor and compawnions, doctor who, fanart, fun stuff, technology hates me sometimes
This gallery contains 5 photos.
So. The scanner on the printer is being a rotten beast. Bah. Technically it’s Windows 8.1 that’s causing the problems, …
14 Tuesday Jul 2015
Tags
a. a. milne, artwork, avengers, bound to the flame, doctor who, dragons, fan art, fantasy, frozen, marvel, novels, star wars, stefan, winnie the pooh, writing
This gallery contains 17 photos.
Some of this, again, is not from camp, or was completed as part of camp. A lot of it, though, …
05 Sunday Jul 2015
Posted in Artwork, Living Life with Passion, Uncategorized
Tags
artwork, avengers, camp nanowrimo, camp nanowrimo july 2015, captain america, cats, doctor who, dogs, jack harkness is licking all over the doctor because he can, marvel, nanowrimo, national novel writing month, original fiction, star wars
This gallery contains 11 photos.
Hello, everyone! This year, in an attempt to be witty, I decided to rebel for this month’s Camp Nanowrimo. …
05 Sunday Apr 2015
Tags
catholic culture, catholicism, easter, happy easter!, living life with passion, religious life, religious themes, roman catholic
Medium: Sketch paper and pencil. And a lot of time and hard work.
Happy Easter, everyone!
Thanks for stopping by. 🙂 Have a wonderful Easter, and may God bless you today and always!)
(Some of you might be wondering about the symbolism in the art. The cross is obvious enough, but that ain’t no Phoenix. Also, why it’s titled “Pelican” but doesn’t look like an actual… well, pelican. That latter part is because I’m a lazy artist who prefers to stylize her birds. Also, symbolism. Anyway, I’m not surprised if you don’t know the Pelican–it’s a lesser-known icon in religious symbolism. The Pelican is said to pierce its breast and give its blood to feed its young in times of famine, preserving the lives of its children, but often dying in the process. As such, it has become a symbol of the Savior. Geeky but awesome stuff–like an albatross represents the sinner returning home. Anyway, you can go on with your lives now. If I’ve brought an interesting new fact into your trivia folder, I say, “Mission complete.”)
Posted by erinkenobi2893 | Filed under Artwork, Living Life with Passion
03 Friday Apr 2015
Tags
angels' reflections, artwork, avengers, candles, captain america, dragons, fantasy, how to train your dragon, leaves, marvel, novels, original stories, original work, sketch dumps, star wars
This gallery contains 19 photos.
Apparently I have a lot of art I’ve completed over a number of weeks and haven’t uploaded, for some reason. …
05 Saturday Jul 2014
Posted in Artwork, Living Life with Passion, Uncategorized
Tags
artwork, chalk, chalk drawings, coals, fire, fireworks, flames, independence day, john locke, july fourth, sidewalk chalk
This gallery contains 19 photos.
…and in other news, the Star Wars ecards are redlinked. (I seriously can NOT find them! Gah!) Oh, joy. But …
28 Friday Mar 2014
Posted in Artwork, Bound to the Flame, Uncategorized
Tags
This gallery contains 10 photos.
Hello, everyone! While I was off my laptop, I did a lot of drawing, and now that I have the …
15 Saturday Feb 2014
Posted in Artwork, Bound to the Flame, Tales of a Wandering Bard
Okay, I was going to change the way that I had these posts organized, but I decided against it, due to some advice from Iris (who I feel like I haven’t seen in a month… *sob* and who is moving away… *double sob* *cue me learning how to use Webcam*), who said that “people don’t really read super-long, 6,000-word blog posts”. I was originally planning to start posting the whole chapter on the blog at once, but she talked me out of it. I guess I’ll just put the links on a page, then… or something.
Oh, and I apologize for not posting anything on Valentines’ Day, but it seems to be my fate to suffer horribly trying (though not virulent) illnesses on all the minor holidays of the year, including my own birthday. (See why I’m depressed?! It’s almost like the galaxy in general has it out for me!) There will also be no pink in this post, unless Margery wore it without telling me. Melilana isn’t a pink kind of lady. I think she prefers deep azure. And this isn’t a “shipping” story. Sorry, but I could NOT write romance to save my life.
Anyway… without further ado, fraction 4/5 in the first chapter of the Bound to the Flame saga!
Bound to the Flame
Chapter I
Part IV
“Can you feel it now?” Rowan asked. Adyn, kneeling beside him, shook his head. “Then calm down. Forget your anxieties, at least for now. You’re overthinking this. It’s giving me a headache!” The tension in the air cleared slightly. “Better. Now can you feel it?”
Adyn’s concentration shattered. He ground his teeth together angrily and threw the staff that had been lying across his knees on the floor. “No! I can’t! You’re too darn bright!”
“Adyn!” Rowan exclaimed, tawny dark eyes springing open. He stared at the child in mild shock. “Language!”
“But I can’t do it!” Adyn shouted. “You know I can’t, and I never will!” Rowan gave a frustrated sigh.
“Fine. I’ll ground the loose magic pooled around me and try dampening my aura, then we’ll try again. That should make things easier for you.” Adyn rolled his eyes. Rowan frowned. “And calm down. Anger won’t do you any good. It only clouds your mind and saps your abilities.” Rowan drew in a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. After all, he reasoned, it must be frustrating to be taught by someone to whom magic came so easily—who didn’t even have to use verbal spells, for goodness’ sake!—when you yourself had to fight every inch of the way. Patience. He had to have patience. Rowan heaved out a slow sigh. Ever since the accident, patience had come hard for him. And it wasn’t as if Adyn was any better. There had to be another way, some separate solution… He could ponder it at length, later. Rowan drew in another breath. He reached down to the undercurrent of magic that flowed unseen through all things. Rather than resisting the natural impulse of the fabric of life to return to its hidden state, to draw energy for a spell, Rowan allowed it to return to its source. After all these years, he finally had the instinctive panic attack that came when he felt the borrowed strength draining away from himself under control, but it still pulled at the fringes of his mind, forcing him to swallow down the incipient nausea. No, not borrowed, he decided, but still, strength that was not his to claim. No strength was his to claim, in fact. None of it was his. It was all a gift from the Creator.
The room cleared slightly, the colors dulling and a chill wrapping around him, as the holy incense drew away. Rowan sighed; he was surprised for a moment at not seeing his own breath. “Is that better, Adyn?”
“I still can’t see it,” the three-year-old complained. Rowan sighed. Maybe he was pushing too hard? After all, the boy wasn’t even old enough to learn to read yet. They were getting nowhere, and had been for the past few hours.
“Perhaps we should try something else,” he suggested. Adyn brightened up.
“Casting?” he asked hopefully.
“You do realize, Adyn, that, if we worked on casting, we’d be spending most of the time getting nowhere on your control.” Rowan sighed in frustration. He really should be given a knighthood for this alone; he was reasonably sure, despite his limited experience, that childcare was infinitely harder than anything the field could dish out. With a lifetime’s practice of self-discipline, he quashed the self-pitying thought. Adyn scowled.
“I don’t get why we have to work on fusty old control, anyway,” he complained. “Why can’t we just work on the spells?”
“Do you want to lose control and accidentally kill someone with a stunning spell?” Rowan snapped back, with unintentional venom. Remembering the last week, when he had blasted Rowan back into the wall and the young man had only been saved by his own innate magical abilities, Adyn blushed and hung his head. Rowan sighed and gripped the child’s arm. “Adyn, I’m… I’m sorry. That… was uncalled for.” He drew in a deep breath. “What a pair we are,” he said in harsh disgust that was directed more at himself than Adyn. “You can’t wait until you grow up—you’re hungry for adventure—and I ache to get back out in the field, stop all this inactivity—though I know I never can go out on errantry again. We’re all too similar. That’s why we keep on subjectively hating each other and going back and forth like this.” Adyn looked as if he was out of his depth for a long moment, then brightened up.
“Control?” he asked, grinning. Rowan burst out laughing.
“You’re priceless.”
A drawing of Rowan concentrating deeply on a fire spell. Surprisingly, this one didn’t take nearly as long to complete as I feared. Special thanks to Jewel, without whom I would have forgotten the scar on Rowan’s cheek… oh, and if you were wondering, his bad leg is not physically deformed; it was just broken badly and then didn’t heal right. The bones are too weak, so he could very easily break it again, and the muscles are weak as well. Oh, and to those who were wondering… the double-clasp in the other drawing of Rowan is really part of his cloak, NOT his shirt. 😛
Margery Dun Fayr glanced surreptitiously at her two guards as they marched her along the Spartan, gray passageways of the castle of Ertraia. They led her along to a large room, high-roofed, with curtains along the far wall, hiding the windows. The only light in the room came from a fire that blazed in the hearth; it was comfortably warm near the fire, but the back of the room was abominably cold. She looked nervously across the room. A single high-backed chair was set near the fire, within the circle of pleasant heat, but well hidden in the shadows. Someone was sitting in it, though she could not see them properly. The chair had obviously been set so that the light would shine on the face of any person entering, but the entering person would not be able to see the one sitting in the chair. The figure seemed to be covered with some sort of long, warm robe, its face hidden. The figure straightened slightly as the guards approached with Margery. “Report, Captain,” he said—a young man’s voice, crisp, fresh, pleasing; soft-spoken, but with an undercurrent of hidden, deep-rooted strength; a quiet, confident, and, for the moment, passive power.
“Sir.” The leader of the guards, a knight by his green cloak, embroidered at one shoulder with a stooping falcon, stepped forward, and saluted the mysterious young man respectfully. “She was found trespassing within the borders of the Realm. She is not Ertraian.” The figure in the chair bowed his head slowly as he thought over this information.
“Leave us,” he decided. The knight and guards bowed, respectfully, once more, and left. Margery looked at the figure in the chair, curiously.
“Why were you trespassing in the kingdom of Ertraia?” he asked. “Espionage is a very serious charge here.” Margery shifted awkwardly.
“I didn’t know I was in Ertraia,” she said.
“Half-truths are as bad as lies, your highness,” the young man returned softly. There was no threat in the even-toned words. Somehow, it was more uncanny and terrifying than it could have ever been if there had. Margery started.
“You know who I am?” she gasped. There was almost a smile in the reply—it was kind, yet at the same time, mocking—as if its owner was turning all his venom on himself, while trying to be gentle with the young woman he was questioning.
“Until now, I did not. Merely an educated guess. Call it intuition, if you will.” The figure in the chair shifted. “Please answer my questions, Princess. If you do not, I will have little choice but to have you incarcerated, even though that would be nearly a declaration of war.”
“Well…” Margery took a deep breath and swallowed. “I was curious.”
“You were foolish,” her questioner chided. “Forbidden fruit is often forbidden—for a reason.” The princess took an almost-involuntary step forward, a moth drawn to the flame. “Stay where you are,” the voice commanded, suddenly powerful. To Margery’s surprise, her body froze, as if of its own accord.
“May I at least see your face? It would be so much less awkward then…” she began.
“No, you may not.” The young man shifted restlessly in his chair. “I see that you are honest, even if you have been foolish along with it. You meant no harm. You merely let your curiosity get the better of you. You may return to Arethwyne, your highness, but I must first have your oath that you will tell no one what you have seen or heard, or even that you were in Ertraia at all. It is for your own safety, as well as ours.” He leaned forward, slightly, and Margery thought she caught the outline of a slender, elfin face. “Are you willing to swear it?” he asked.
Swallowing, she nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely audible. The young man straightened up.
“Very well. Will you swear by Saint Andrew that you will neither tell anyone that you were ever in Ertraia, nor of what has transpired while you were within its borders, neither what you have seen nor what you have heard, not even your own kin or your closest confidante?”
“I swear it,” Margery replied.
“And will you also swear that what you have learned shall never be used against Ertraia, whether by the action of your own kingdom or by your aid to any invading force?” Margery gave an involuntary start; it was similar to an oath of allegiance, though it merely dealt with state secrets. She swallowed hard, steeling her nerve before replying.
“I swear it.” With some difficulty, the figure rose momentarily from his chair—he was not tall, and slightly built—and bowed gracefully to her.
“My thanks, your highness. I apologize for your arrest, but it was necessary for us to protect our own safety.” The young man fell back into the chair and raised his face. “Captain!” he called. The knight entered, and bowed. “You and your men will escort the Princess to the borders of Arethwyne. There you are to return her weapons, and set her at liberty. Farewell, your highness, and in future pay closer attention to your studies in geography.” Somewhat mystified, Margery left with her erstwhile captors.
A colored-in version of “Focus,” using Paint… it’s called PAINt for a reason. 😛
Here’s hoping you enjoyed the chapter. And the art. And the fact that at least one of Rowan’s feet looks right in this one… (Longtime readers of my blog will recall that positioning of the feet and hands are my greatest trials… thankfully his fingers look right in this.)
Anyway, so that’s my rant for the day… Thanks for reading, and God Bless!
