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idk anymore ;~;


Edit: holy ffff. I woke up to 400 favorites?! What is this?! Honestly I don't expect this to get very far in the contest I just had a little idea. I'm probably gonna make another entry that more accurately conveys a message.

entry for the make ugly contest.. i know it's not exactly scary or overly hideous.. but i guess what i was trying to illustrate was the effect smoking has on youth hence the adorable wittle boy. i'm not necessarily against smoking although it's something that i would never do myself. it's a personal choice. the cracks on the floor i guess symbolize what happens to your lungs when you smoke.

btw my parents smoked for 20 something years, i finally made em quit in 07. i guess i was just too worried about them. i kept throwing away their cigarettes when they weren't there. :3
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Entry for the 'Make Ugly' contest. Download for larger version!
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My entry for the Truth contest - a mutant tobacco plant preparing to ensnare some unsuspecting teens.
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the truth has been awakened, and its very ugly.....
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:icontso1: This was my entry for 'The Make Ugly Contest'. >_> I honestly didn't know which one to go with so I went with the 'undead'.

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I take a breath, finally having arrived at my destination.
I take another, as shallow as it was.
All has been lost to the smoke and yet I still smoke.
Ironic how I'm the only one left.
I breathe again, inhaling the smog that eternally shrouds this city.
We all knew it would happen one day. Some day.
I stare at the graves in front of me.
Some of people I knew, some of pets, others of children.
It's strange. Being the only person alive, I find myself here with the dead quite often.
Cliche to say it's the safest place on Earth, but it is. Especially now.
They don't like to come here. I don't know why. Maybe it reminds Them that they're dead.

I inhale again, choking on the smoke.
Over time the world had become covered in smog and smoke.
I honestly don't really know what it was like when it wasn't.
My dad told me it was beautiful, there was green grass and none of them.

They are what's left of us...
When we die, the cancer that rots our bodies escapes.
We become mere shadows of our former selves.
When I die, I'll be one too.
When I die, They will be all that's left...
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This polymer clay creation depicts the human body as a mutating toxic dumping ground as the aftermath of smoking.
Oral cancers and tumors. Yellow and missing teeth. Tobacco stains and tar... the glamorous side of smoking.
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The disease that destroys you from the inside out, turning you into the monster.

Graphite medium. 2B Mechanical Pencil.
16in. x 20in. Bristol Board.
Approx 58 hours
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Quitting smoking was hard for me, but looking and feeling like this wouldn't be much fun either. A die hard habit can equal a hard death. If you smoke, quit now.

A few weeks ago my professor, Don Seegmiller, told my digital painting class that our final project for this summer's was to create and submit an entry to this contest. I found that to be both ironic and sobering, as I was currently in the process of quitting. Researching and focusing on this assignment has been helpful in my attempt to quit; I still have the patch on my shoulder, and I still haven't touched a cigarette since my quit-date. I'm done with tobacco forever. Thanks Don.
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speedpaint - [link]

An addiction is an intimidating figure that always leans over a person. The figure controls the person and the person is held prisoner until they find the strength to break free. :3


I know that it looks like my other entry.. it was supposed to be kind of a reboot of that.. ^^ i dunno they're different I guess.



edit: i had an awful dream that everyone hated this. XD
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The clack of glass quietly echoed through the cramped, disheveled alley. This was a favorite district for young, travelling businessmen. From the outside, acid neon lights tried to squeeze their way into what was little more than a long hallway of brick and refuse. The droning sounds of bass and club-goers barely penetrated the alley's thick, masoned defenses.

The Salesman found more success persuading customers to allow him to demonstrate his wares here. Stumbling patrons dizzy from drink, music, and women were much easier to entertain with his "curiosities" than the children had been. Their faces were never shaped right.

Controller parasites were a means to an end, nothing more. He didn't fully understand them but they responded to his commands with ease. There was but one way to ensure delivery and, though not at first, it grew easier with every customer. He was pursuing a greater goal but for now, right now, it was all about amassing customers. Never more than one at a time of course; any more and the influence of the crowd normally won out. It had to be a person who hadn't realized they were alone yet. He would talk comforts to them, ensnare them with wonder, and promise more than he had the ability or intention to deliver.

Still the sound of glass clacking quietly echoed. He rose. Something like a smile, tinged with pride, briefly flashed over his lips. His latest customer had been slumped back against the brick wall but now worked to raise himself to full height, filth staining his collared shirt. There was never much blood when the jars were jammed into the customers ruddy faces. The controller parasite would quickly follow its instincts, settling into the place where a face had once been like a hermit crab in a new shell.

The Salesman pulled out a wet hunk of something that resembled ribbed cartilage. It glistened and made a cracking, squishing sound as he squeezed it. Liquid ran down the length of his forearm, gathering at and dripping from his elbow. The customer, reacting as if politely asked, followed as the Salesman made his way back, deeper into the alley, away from what little light struggled to illuminate the entrance.

Another loyal customer, he thought. Another addition to the plan.
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