#paint but now isn't the time for that

[imflyingfish]

I gotta finish the skin game thinggy at some point. I've tot loads of sketches lined up too for them so if it comes tk it i will just post them all at once

[cozylittleartblog]

chat imma be honest that project diva PC release has had lasting consequences ,

[oozeandgoo-art]

Stubbornness.

[mspaint-flower]

Vflower wrapped up in a blanket would make my day :]

i wrapped her like a burrito too many times so i put the burrito in bed this time

[stellorc]

this man invaded our house, ate from the fridge and stole my heart. Maybe this yiling laozu dude isn't so bad after all. Anyway, big thanks to @revanchxst for dragging me into this hole. It's been two weeks and I haven't know peace ever since.

[doopcity]

thought it'd be weird not to post a drawing, but i wanna get sentimental too my 20s were spent working. some school but mostly work. and living with my parents still which sucked. only in the last few months did all these big changes happen (quit my job, moved out, changed fursona lmao)

i dunno what's in store in the future, but i feel like my 30s are gonna be way better than my 20s. posting this to manifest that i suppose

[chiropteracupola]

I feel so near to the howling of the wind / Feel so near to the crashing of the waves / Feel so near to the flowers in the field...

[moth and compass is a collaboration with @natdrinkstea!]

[averlym]

"bad decisions, that's alright; look, i'm still alive"

[elleskinner-justart]

Usually I tap out on shark art for a little while after Sharktember, but there is a different shark themed art event in October called Sharktober that sometimes tempts me with really enticing prompts.

Day 1's prompt was fairytale, which (a) how do I not participate in this very specific overlap of interests and (b) inspired this Cindershark.

Some day her prince will come!

[viric-dreams]

I may have lost this painting when I quit my drawing programme, but I can offer a small writing snippet to accompany the WIP screenshot, so it's not all gone to waste:

“What are you painting?”

Tamara hadn’t heard Ockham come in, but the way the corners of her vision shift around her, harsh lines of light softening to a dreamy blur, she should’ve realised it much sooner.

“It’s the view from my bedroom balcony. In Varchas,” she says, choosing her words carefully in a tongue that still feels foreign and clunky.

Ockham squints, studying the painting with a furrowed brow, and the expression suddenly reminds her of her auntie. Tamara shakes her head, dismissing the illogical comparison. They clearly look nothing alike. They shouldn’t, at least.

Ockham’s hand traces along the line of a wall of mirrors, where it intersects with a planter containing long dead greenery, careful not to touch the still wet paint. She’s suddenly aware that the perspective on the planter is off, and makes a mental note to fix it as soon as she’s able.

“It is not a very nice view,” Ockham finally says.

Although it’s a somewhat rude thing to say, it’s not entirely wrong. There was nothing special or aesthetically pleasing about the view. She’d barely paid it any mind herself, in all of the years she’d lived and slept in that room. The part of her brain that had been slowly developing since she’d picked up this new hobby urged her to move some elements, give the piece stronger tones than the monotonous muddy yellow characteristic of Varchaasi evenings. But that would go against the aim of painting it in the first place.

“It is not a very nice view, no. But it’s the one I had, and if I don’t paint it how it was, I fear one day I won’t remember how it really looked like anymore.”

Ockham’s studying her now, and she wishes, not for the first time, that she had any insight into her flatmate and companion’s mind, whether it even worked the same way as a real person’s would. If Ockham would find her thought offensive.

“Ok.”

“Ok?” she repeats, confused.

“Ok,” Ockham nods, then moves away from the painting towards the door, “I go now to the market. Is there something not on the list that we need?”

She nods no, then catches herself and changes the motion.

“No, nothing.”

“Ok.”

Ockham is gone again. This time she hears the door click closed. With a sigh, she draws her brush across the canvas, determined to fix that planter before it cements itself as warped in her memories.

[asphodeldreams]

old piece i started in 2018 when i first watched the show, but didn’t finish until sometime in 2021

these two still make my heart absolutely soar

[running-in-the-dark]

well. apparently I did something bad yesterday because I woke up with very very very bad pain in my shoulder/arm/upper back. I guess it's sore muscles but I don't know from what. 🙃

[marshmallow-fluffy]

Day 27 and 28 of @amphibianaday's Amphibuary! I redrew my day 10, for the prompts of 'self' and 're-do', once again under the cut for very mild rainworld spoilers

And my mom also redid her day 10! We didn't plan that, it just worked out that way

[mav-the-artist]

I thought this one part in a Doom comic from 1996 felt extremely fitting for Hank, so here :)

Original below cut:

I also based Torture's design from how Krinkels drew him here!! :D

[sysig]

BIRTHDAY

Birthday! :D

[rawliverandgoronspice]

The Hero of Time returns home.

(sort of)