love-new-artists

Somewhere in a magical forest far away A magnificent Oak Tree sparked Her energy that was purposefully driven Way back in her canopy which overlooked a stream And within the tremendous array of branches Magnificent Oak Tree grew a small twig that had grown So precipitously and solely for the opportunity to host A smooth walled-nut called Acorn This small inconspicuous twig now had the opportunity To nurture its fruit with careful consideration A consideration of how big it will be and most importantly When would the small twig drop Acorn to the ground Would it be during a wind storm or a random casting off Finally the day had come and the small twig let go Down to earth fell Acorn as she wondered what just happened However, she knew she was safe and that was good She was very close to the magnificent Oak Tree Over much time, as Acorn was secure in her place She grew and became a grand tree and ascending upward Towering into the open sky for all to marvel A stunningly

Ancient warriors shouting Dancing around the sacred fire Drum beat to heart's rhythm Feet pounding mother earth Naked flesh in all its glory Sweat beading their skin Warriors of black and white Calling out to the night sky Spirit calling out to spirit Tears of ecstasy on their faces As their life force ignites Becoming one with the flame Young and old they dance Woman and men together Singing out to creation in joy Fighting for all time and space

In this solitary space, a realm of disarray, I sit, the lone spectator of my own play. The world around me, a symphony of chaos, A cacophony of life, a never-ending crescendo. A rat scurries by, a tiny life amidst the mess, Its tiny ears dancing to the world's silent distress. Feasting on scraps, a reminder of survival, In this moment, it's the only source of revival. Beyond these thinning walls, a disturbed coupler rages wild, A couple's fury unleashed, unrestrained and undefiled. Their voices, sharp as daggers, pierce through the air, A symphony of discord, a sonnet of despair. Their anger, a fire that burns with intense heat, Sending icy tendrils that my soul does defeat. But in this madness, I find a twisted solace, For I am not alone in this urban malice. The chaos, a companion, whispers in my ear, A reminder of humanity, ever so near. For in this absurdity, I find my place, A pawn in the game, yet still part of the race. The couple is screaming from across the hall the sound

Dear … It’s been so long I’m not even sure what I should call you. I once knew you well enough to know that you hated being called Mrs. because it made you feel old, so calling you the “woman previously known as Mrs. Hauksson” feels like an insult. I don’t want to insult you. I never did. And now I don’t even feel worthy to utter your first name. This note has barely started and I’m already rambling. Doesn’t matter that I’ve written and rewritten this thousands of times over the last twenty years; I still have no idea what to say even after writing several more drafts down over the last few days, and now I’m not even reading from one. I want to tell you everything like I used to, but I don’t know how much, if any, you want to hear anymore. If you’ve made it this far without burning or smashing this tablet, I’m sorry. That should have been the first thing out of my mouth when I started this recording, and it’s too little too late. But I am sorry for the hell I put you and the kids

Every flippant remark was a flint struck match lighting the next unattended fire in my mind Brilliantly this cumulative blaze migrated to the body, both plane and pilot as some entrancing Icarus aloft, for now Blood boiled over turning tar thick sapping sluggishly slowing down my fervor for being, a decennium spent asmolder, pyrolysis personified Corazón turned coal reserve, a finite fuel source burning ceaselessly, an exothermic core as a way to keep myself warm amongst this indiscriminate pitch Raised to be razed in perpetuity until the carbon collects so deeply there remains only fertile ground for new growth and diamonds when I'm willing to dig Windblown seeds of change drank deeply my tears to nourish the aboreal wonderland that now cradles me divinely in freedom and protection It is with eager enamel that I break the ripened flesh of my piquant desires, juice running proudly from my lips to my next steps In this canopy I am shaded from most further burning all the while

Sometimes it's hard, the days are dark, the mind is blurred, but just keep on. No point looking back - be strong.

The world breaks us all Pick up what’s left start anew Ride life while it last

Beneath the sun's golden gaze, we stand, Earth's children, rooted in ancient soil. As spring's tender breath awakens the land, A dance of renewal, a sacred coil. This the time of balance between day and night, light and darkness O moon rabbit, keeper of cycles yurning Your soft fur glows in the silver light, as you bound through the sacred grove. Eyes reflecting ancient secrets, bright, Guiding us toward rebirth, hope, and love. Rabbits, nimble and elusive, traverse the earth’s surface with ease. Some say they carry messages from the departed, their ears attuned to secrets whispered by spirits. When the veil between worlds thins, the rabbit’s presence grows stronger. From all eggs, a universe unfolds, A promise cradled in fragile shells, Life's mystery, a tale yet untold, In the alchemy of birth, we dwell. O Egg, vessel of beginnings profound, In your curved embrace, we find our way, From darkness to light, we are unbound, Guided by the equinox's gentle sway. Spring's

The agony lives, a silent whisper in the hollows of cold, familiar places, Living like words etched, indelible, upon a tombstone's unforgiving face. In our all worn out, dying visages, Time's relentless march eternally traced. Outside, the moonlight weaves its silver threads, casting an eerie spell, a ghostly glow, upon the green grass, over blackened hills, a world bathed in its otherworldly embrace. My time is near, the end beckons, it flutters like wings of a bat, erratic and swift, singing in my ear, a requiem soft and low, a symphony of shadows, in the dark adrift. Deliriums have chilled, tendrils of frost, and distracted me from the warmth, From all the hope others found in dreams, a solace I seek yet seems so far away. I stand alone, an island amidst a stormy sea, With neither fear nor courage served, no armor against fate's capricious decree. End of the endless night approaches, Lost and trembling in torment and despair, a soul adrift on the tides of uncertainty, seeking

The complete list of all the tutorials I have written/made - at least the ones still worth sharing, as some are really old at this point. It just got so hard to find them after a while, and there are so many - so here we are. A complete masterlist. The tutorials are not in chronological order, but rather in (a more) logical order Some of them are rather old, so the formatting may be off - or the quality lower. I've still included the decent ones, though, and they may serve as an example that writing tutorials also is a skill you improve in as time goes on and you do it more. Rambles about being an artist, and typical Artist Problems: Typical Artists' Problems, and how to defeat them (a free pdf booklet which answers all the common questions. Includes improved versions of all the articles below) Unfair comparisons and being your own worst critic A word or two about practice and practicing art Some about talent, skill and marketing Some about finding your own drawing