They Won't Come Clean...

I was probably going to write more of that self-revealing bs that I tend to write when I write things, but I just spent the last 3 1/2 hours essentially talking with Brent about that kind of stuff, so I guess that I got it out of my system. One thing I find interesting, I heard from someone (second hand at that), that I am the answer to someone's prayers. So, yeah, we'll see how that works out. My mother commented that the thing about having someone say that you are special is that you then feel like you have to live up to it. My conclusion, though, is that when you're used to not have people tell you you're special (or even tell you something's wrong with you), you feel uncomfortable when someone tells you you are (special, not wrong). It doesn't fit with your concept of how the world works. So yeah, keep your frickin' praises to yourself people, I'll have none of what you're serving... for now that is. Of course, praise for the art is a different story. Speaking of art, oh shits, it's another seraph...

So this one is called Ashen Seraph. This is the sketch above. It was supposed to be another black and white piece like "Touch Seraph", but I liked the line work so much I colored it. Click on the sketch to see the colored version. I think her wings where once all colorful, but not they are stained. Not that she seems to care actually. So, I need to refine the detail on the wings, I need to tighten the shape of the face... I don't know, is this good yet?





MOOD
????? (I have no idea what I feel right now. I'm going to sleep.)