here's Iris all i can say! anything else you wanna know go to page The Story in Russian [link] The Story in English [link] Iris belongs to Rita Zhirkova
send my love to Rita b'coz she's AWESOME!!!!!!!! Artist Writer in Every art Social life for me Original ming Magic WOMAN i know Ever heh love you RITA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Люблю тебя
this is for 's contest, this is her OC Anna shes supposed to have an quirky style, abit hippyish, so i drew on her an outfit i was wearing, at the time, i love my scarf,so pretty(the reddish one) anyway, hope this looks alright i used a texture
Travelling by bus for 8 hours can be a pain, but not when its through The Andes mountin chain in winter. I saw a HUGE, freaking awesome condor flying just two metres above the bus... well not flying... air gliding like a boss. humongous birds, condores... yeah. and the colors of the mountains! OMG! ive travelled through the andes before, but never in winter, it was pretty awesome.
used a reference for the condor [link] [link] all textures by me.
here it is on tumblr [link] just i case you wanna reblog it
i feel sorry, i didn't submit anything for a while. so i put up something that's been in my sketchbook for a while.
i really like the book, but i don't really want to watch the movie, the trailer was terrible. Yes i judge movies by their trailers. It's too...exaggerated? i dunno. For one thing is that the costumes are bad._.
okay, so maybe this doesn't nessasarily look anything like Alaska from Looking for Alaska, and she doesn't really look 'Lost'(in the labryrinth) but WHATEVER peoples!! you get the idea of this anyways-.-
SUCH a great and sad and wonderful and amazing and cool and real and sad and great and sad first book. It's sooo awesome.
Alaska Young (c) The amazing John Green
And i read An Abundance of Katherines and going to read fault in our stars. But stupid book has too many holds in the freaking library-.-
quick sketch for the fourth of july- happy independence day!
however you're spending this holiday, i hope you're staying safe and beating the heat!
as for Blaire, she decides to drag Prosper to the Jersey shore for a day at the beach. he humors her, as always, not quite accustomed yet to the american holiday. he looks rather dazed, doesn't he...? perhaps from the humidity?
"I have walked alone and the stars have tried to guide me home I have walked alone Lost in the fog All I find are faded pictures from a distant life And I wish to God I could see your eyes. [...] If the morning comes I'll be thankful just to see the sun But the daylight seems so far away." —Daylight - Ron Pope
“Benjamin, wake up! …This isn’t funny, Benji! Wake up!” His chest wasn’t moving. I struggled to a sitting position and took his shoulders, shaking them, gripping his shirt with both hands. It was still warm. I shook him again. “Don’t you dare die on me! Damnit, Benjamin, don’t you dare die!” He wouldn’t wake up. Why? Why wouldn’t he wake up? I slapped his cheek once, twice; harder—he had to wake up. There was a sob rising in my chest as I took his hand again, feeling his wrist for a pulse, for anything, but there were only my tears, only Benjamin lying in my arms. “Crucified Christ, Benjamin, get up! I need to tell you! I need to tell you I love you!”
…Is there something wrong with me? I want someone who can tell me the answer. I want someone who can take me by the shoulders and shake me and tell me I’m mad, tell me to snap out of this and be grateful for the life I have. Or tell me that everything will be all right, that I’m not out of mind and that somehow everything will be okay again. One or the other. But instead I get nothing but silence filled by my breath. And that’s the worst part. Silence can be a lot of things. It can be the pause before a kiss. Peace. Serenity. Anticipation. But not for me, not anymore. For me, silence is the sound of no-one caring. It’s isolation, it’s feeling trapped as I try to decide whether to sleep and succumb to nightmares or stay awake and be sad. Please, please don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to be sad. God, no. And I am happy sometimes. Honest. But I’m so tired, and being tired makes me panic, and that makes me frightened, which keeps me from sleeping so I won’t be so tired anymore. I’m stuck and I’m so afraid that this will be my life from here on out. —Benjamin Jastrow
art, writing (c) me (this is not me writing for myself; this is a character from my novel. I am not depressed in any way.)