#lumograph

[technoreliquary]

scan of a new drawing

[james-hall-art]

Thought I would try my new Staedtler Mars Lumograph Black pencils. These are like standard graphite pencils, but with more charcoal in them to give a blacker look. I think I like them quite a bit :)

[athanasiasioraiart]

"Tie that Binds; a Retrospective" @johnnycash #gioconda #aquarelle and #mars #lumograph on #watercolour paper #johnnycash #yyj #yyjartist #indigenousartist #drawing #doodle #arttherapy #rockabilly #rhythmandblues #1950s #rockmusic #instagramart https://www.instagram.com/p/ConnX-MvWmp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bleistiftblog]

A snowy Lumograph

If you are filming a movie or TV series set in the last fifty years and need a pencil to be used on screen, then Staedtler’s Mars Lumograph is not a bad choice at all: The Lumograph is available in many countries – unlike some other Staedtler pencils, for example the Noris that is extremely popular in some countries, but unavailable in others… In the USA the Lumograph has been available for many…

[danrdarrenc]

[brprvdi]

HI PEOPLE

i wanna start posting my drawings somewhere so why not start here

anyways hi come be friends with me im nice :3

[jitteryjoedoodlez]

Bae Doona

carbon pencils: hb 4b 8b

[ghoulsandgunsmoke-blog]

Sunday Sketch Day: Respect Yr Elder (5/27/22)

I never liked drawing with graphite pencils, mainly because the end results were this God awful grays and they tended to smudge and they had a glossy sheen. Then I found these Mars Lumograph black pencils that are a mix of graphite and charcoal. No glossy, darker, but still messy. Rather like them. Still not a fan of blending and shading the traditional way. Still, interesting experimentation.

[ramius-xiv]

Fig. 4: Early tintype lumography, wet emulsion plate, Eorzea, recovered in 135 7AE. Subject and lumographer may be Ramius Raske, inventor, Eorzea 1554 6AE - ? 7AE (Cat. 4391J)

[From museum archive c. 194 Seventh Astral Era]

[kat-desade]

Im not dead... lol just been to hot in the land of Aus to do much work lately....

I did mange to attend All Hell Breaks Loose 12 (aussie supernatural con) over the weekend and got my art signed 🥰🥰

A portrait of the Supernatural guests attending All Hell Breaks Loose 12 in Melbourne.

Such an amazing time was had, each guest was truely lovely and excited to see the sketch in real life with Jared even commenting that 'This is fucking amazing!' 😻

I meet some wonderful people down there - there truely isn't anything like the SPN Family 🥰

Left to right, top to bottom:

▪️Dean Winchester

▪️Sam Winchester

▪️Adam Winchester / Michael

▪️Trickster / Loki / Gabriel

▪️Arron Bass

▪️Young John Winchester

▪️Lady Toni Bevell

▪️Chuck / God

This is my most detailed compilation portrait to date, Im so happy with how it turned out for juat 2.5 days of work 😻

Paris A Conte and STAEDTLER Mars Lumograph penciels on Strathmore paper

[sheirukitriesfandom]

Erandur my precious 💖

Charcoal, pencil (Staedtler Lumograph Black my beloved), white gel pen

To celebrate Erandur winning my TES GILF Poll, I decided to draw him properly for once. I'm pretty pleased with the result. I have a... poll appropriate drawing in the works as well but due to real life circumstances, I haven't been drawing much digitally lately.

Please enlarge 🙂

[the-do-that-girl]

My first contribution to Lucitober 2023 - Prompt 3 Elevator. Chloe's dream sequence in Season 2

Mars Lumograph Black pencils & Caran D'Ache colour pencils on Mixed Media Paper

[bodhranwriting]

Tocktick - Our Introduction to Our Villain

Norris sat seething in the corner of the Branded Crow, his third pint untouched and a stolen newspaper spread across the table.

The headline was, of course, sensationalist and mildly confusing – DEVITT DOMINATES with a byline admitting, NEW ENGINE CATAPULTS CREW TO NEXT ROUND – while the article penned underneath was a more restrained summary of that day’s leg of the Throgmorton race and the author’s tentative predictions on this new piece of technology. He glared at the third lumograph down, ignoring the image of a triumphant Devitt lifting the flag and the one showing the Elmstone siblings fixing their sails, seeing a shot of Talas, Maia, and Emmett standing by the engine. Emmett looked uncomfortable, his face-half turned away and blurred.

No need for that, Norris thought scornfully. I don’t have any proof.

He knocked back his pint, slamming it on the table with enough force that a few of the drunks slumped against the bar looked around. Dark hells, twenty years wasn’t enough to forget the face which had gotten him fired – Emmett Askren was Juan St Ciel, he was sure of it.

It was odd. He hadn’t thought of the youth beyond occasional night-time self-pitying sessions for nigh on a decade and a half now. But one look at his face and it had all come rushing back. The glow of triumph at getting to kill two birds with one stone was enough to excite him into action – stop Katsaros from putting a dent in Gorge’s considerable profits and bring down an elusive past ghost.

Then he remembered that he had no papers, no people who still recalled the man in question. His old bosses were long-dead, the institution in question abandoned and across two oceans. No one cared.

Except him, of course.

His hands were itching. He wanted to hit something, someone for just looking at him funny. He scowled at the other patrons, wondering who would last longest in a fight. None of them looked promising; slug-like middle-aged dockworkers, a few chirpy and withered grandmothers, youths with brittle limbs and prematurely lined faces.

By the Sunlight God’s arse, he hated this place. All the fight had been beaten out of it years ago. A kind of grey inevitability reigned over the inhabitants. The crime consisted of drug-addicts and smugglers rather than any firebrand riots. Barfights here and there, attacks on native and Empire-imported inhabitants by the opposing sides, but there was no real spark to it. It was like the islands permanently had developed low-grade tension headaches. It wasn’t fun.

The tavern door swung open. The entire room’s – including Norris’ – attention flickered towards it. They all stayed there. Norris frowned slightly.

The man who strode inside was tall, about seventy or so years of age, with a neatly trimmed white moustache, beard and swept-back hair. He carried a black cane, but he moved like a dancer, perfectly aware of where he was in the space. The smoke and dirt had settled deeply into his jacket – it had probably been an ivory sort of colour once, but it was now an unpleasant shade of brown. His boots were high-quality and foreign; Eastern by Norris’ guess.

He was also maddeningly familiar.

Either ignoring or oblivious to the stares, the man strode straight up to the bar and flashed a smile at the barkeep. Dipping a hand into his pocket, he spoke in a voice too low for Norris to hear and then produced a rectangular lumograph card. He slid it across the bar – paying no attention to the man next to him peering over his shoulder.

The barkeep made a show of looking it over, but Norris knew that he would disavow all knowledge of the image’s subject. There was a reason that the Helionites’ luminary of protection was also the guardian of those behind the bar.

Not that it was religiously motivated here, he thought scornfully, self-preservation was the saying of the day.

The barkeep shook his head and silently gestured to the taps. The hand held up in response was white and too fine-boned for his frame; if this man had ever done manual labour it had been a lifetime ago.

Then he lifted his cane and rapped it carefully but firmly on the wood of the bar.

It was completely unnecessary. He was the most fascinating thing in the building. The gazes only became open.

Norris sat back in his chair, fingers flat on the table, waiting.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the voice was velvet and ridiculously affable, “I request merely a few minutes of your time to assist me with a most important matter.”

A speech like that should have gotten a bottle smashed over his head immediately, but the situation was so unusual, so odd that the tavern was held back in their chairs and captivated. It probably helped that his accent was Eddorian – another small country swallowed by the Empire years before – and therefore not the voice of their brutish overlords, but the sound of another subjugated ally seeking assistance. In the hierarchy of the oppressed, Eddor was not high on the list having surrendered quickly and been permitted to keep much of their culture due to it being so similar to the Empire. But it was still a colony and that meant a form of trust among the Islanders.

Norris was rather proud of himself for the observation, but not so much that he didn’t listen intently to the man’s next words.

“I am buying the next round,” the proclamation was met with owlish silence, “And as you collect your drinks, I will show you a lumograph. I request that you look it over most carefully. And if you know anything about the man – anything at all from having glimpsed him in the street to him being your missus’ lodger – I bid that you tell me. I will pay a sixpence for each truthful piece of information you give.”

The edge to truthful was the flash of a hound’s fang before it growled.

No one moved. A sixpence to Norris was a measly sum – to an Islander it was a good week’s labour, but their pride would not allow them to take payment for informing on someone who (for all they knew) was an enemy of the Empire.

The man regarded the crowd carefully, hand curling tightly about the cane. For a heartbeat, his expression was of frustrated bemusement before the warm smile crept back.

He laid his free hand on his heart and said, “I have come upon my own accord and no one else’s. This a matter of personal import. I am not – and never have been – affiliated with this nation’s government.”

There was some half-hearted shuffling of the patrons once they had figured out the word affiliated. They formed a dense queue, each person staring down at the lumograph before indicating an answer to the man’s question. Once the brief conversations were done, a mug was pressed into their hands, generously filled with beer.  

Norris didn’t move from his seat, attention locked on the stranger’s face. He kept his friendly mask fixed firmly in place, but his stance became tenser as the line grew shorter.

He was evidently not getting the answers he was seeking.

As the last patron turned away to enjoy their reward, the man’s gaze fell on Norris. He pushed off the bar and strode over, made invisible by his gift of alcohol.

Norris made a show of studying the newspaper as the man sat down at his table. He heard the whisper of card as it was pushed across the wood.

“Take a look, please.”

Norris did not look up. “Are you going to increase the price?” he asked, “How much is this man worth to you?”

“A lot.” The voice was low, and he heard a discordant note in it. It wasn’t anger, but he had the man’s attention; whether he was willing to play Norris’ surly game was a different matter altogether.

“Hm.” He stared unseeingly down at the paper, waiting to see what the man would do.

“But I wouldn’t insult you by offering more money,” the man continued quietly, “However, I would ask that you look.”

Sighing heavily, Norris did. The image showed a male – maybe in his late sixties, early seventies – sat easily in a chair half-smirking at the lumeretta. He had a compact build, not-quite round face with wide-set eyes, and a mane of hair too long for a fashion-conscious Empire man. The lumograph had the usual muddy shade to it, so he couldn’t make out what kind or colour the shirt was save that it was not dark.

He was ready to turn away and disavow all knowledge when he realised that he did recognise the man in question. There was something about the mouth, the insolent smile struck a shard into his memory.

But he couldn’t grasp it from the mire. Norris sucked his teeth and then stopped, realising that the stranger was reading him like a book.

“You know him.” It wasn’t a question. The fangs were extending again.

Norris drummed his fingers on the table and decided to be truthful. “There’s something I recognise,” he began, “But I cannot recall what it is. But I have seen him. And recently.”

The swirl of emotions in the man’s eyes was gone too quickly for him to read. Norris leant back in his chair, interlocking his hands. He gazed coolly upwards.

“Do I get a sixpence?” he asked.

The man smiled. He fished inside his jacket and brought out a small, embossed card. “Better,” he replied, “Here. If you do recall anything of note, please either come or write to this address. You’ll receive more than just a sixpence.”

“A whole crown, perhaps?” He did not keep the sarcasm from his tone.

The man inclined his head, acknowledging him. “Perhaps.”

[empyrisan]

A handsome lion-maned dragon! I need some kind of species name for all of the bulky, fluffy dragons I tend to draw...

My husband @stebens requested this one, I think, when I was feeling stuck on what to draw. For months, he was just a light pencil sketch until I decided to experiment with him. I used a Tombow light gray brush marker, Staedtler Mars Lumograph 8B, and a random HB pencil. No inking, unlike the previous dragon illustrations I've been making lately, which led to this nice and soft look!

[virgo-dream]

Here’s the finished drawing! I wanted to post it before all the decorating with washi-tape and stickers went in, just so you guys can see the drawing by itself :) again, a mix of comic dream x tv dream! gave him a lil aurora borealis coat, as a treat ✨

Materials used: Faber Castell EcoPencils Super Soft, Staedtler Mars Lumograph 100 Softlead pencils, white Posca marker with bullet shaped tip 0.7mm

[petportraitsbyheatherlovelace]

A portrait I did just for fun of their Eurasier, Braxena Apple Rhubarb CM2 CGCA CGCU TKI VHMA ATT "Rhu". Staedtler Mars Lumograph pencils used on 9"X12" Strathmore paper.