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artingabout · 2 years

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The Queen’s Thief themed nook-book made as a gift for @meganwhalenturner

Behind the scenes:

My materials:

ae woodene booke

much paper in many layers and shades

craft knife

scissors

foamy-tape-stuff (technical term)

acrylic paints

brushes and roller

pens & coloured pencils

PVA glue

faux gold leafing

resin

metal ruler and cutting mat

milliput

fimo

wire

craft foam boards

card

black tissue

wooden dowels

chalk

This one, I’ve been planning for a while. Originally I was going to do a standard book nook, but then remembered these gorgeous wooden books I’ve had just lying around waiting for a purpose and BEHOLD!

Because I can never keep things simple for myself, I wanted to try different craft styles for each section so I’ll go through them one by one.

Phase 1 was challenging because it’s the shallow left side. I decided to do one of the iconic scenes that stayed with me long after I read the books for the first time in cut paper, because it would let me play with layers and the illusion of depth while also... y’know. Paper. It’s thin.

First off I made a background to add some perspective and depth to the box, so it looked much deeper than it is.I painted on a sky effect and then dug out this gorgeous paper that has a kind of marble texture to it and made the buildings.

Next I did a base sketch of the faces to get the sizes right and snipped out Gen since he has more layers because his arm is foreground.

I didn’t remember to take a picture of the paper I textured for his skin tone, but basically various shades of pinks/reds/browns/whites applied to watercolour paper in erratic layers to get some texture and depth. It’s sort of visible on the hand (which was the first piece I cut out and it strikes me as ironic that it’s the piece I kept losing because I was working on my living room floor 😅)

For Attolia, I picked different papers/cards to use, specifically a rather nice handmade off-white paper with dark red rose petals imbedded in it to serve as her alabaster skin with the smudge of blood.

Nothing says love like floating heads, amirite? I added some layers to Attolia’s hair and coiled the strands of the ringlets around a cocktail stick to get the curls. The crown and earring are both faux-gold-leaf card with slivers of resin as rubies. So much gold-leaf everywhere. SO MUCH. Details were added with a fine-tipped pen and some shading with coloured pencils.

The layers. So many layers. I think Gen has about 15 separate pieces to him. For his sleeves, I added some texture by using a rubber patterned stamp and copper ink, then splatted paint all over it :D

And to add even more depth to a 1cm deep space, I used thick double-sided foam tape (I have no idea of technical terms. Foamy squishy stick string) to elevate them off the background. A wee glimpse of it is visible just under Gen’s collarbone

Phase 1 complete!

Phase 2 was another beast entirely. Originally, I was planning on doing the scene from The Thief when Gen steals Hamiathes’s gift, but realised that would mean an image of Hephestia that looked very much like the image of Attolia I had already done. Plus I was planning to use The Return of the Thief’s cover which is also red, so I wanted to do something less red.

Pheris was kind enough to give me some beautiful descriptions of the half-built temple of Hephestia in TRotT and I love me some forced perspective :D And naturally, I had a slightly deeper box to work with this time (omg a whole 2-3cm! Luxury!) so of course, it had to be 3D.

"I studied the Great Goddess, shining in the darkness. The treasury was new, but her statue was much older; the wood from which she was carved showed through the gold leaf. The pillars supporting the dome were tree trunks, smoothed of their bark and inverted, so they were wider at the top than at the ground"

First up, the Goddess herself. Fimo on a wire armature with a throne made of balsa wood . Since the statue is described as old with wood showing through the gold, I figured she could look a little crudely-carved and rough. Also, she is smol and I have sossige fingers.

I cut dowels to size to serve as the inverted-tree-trunk pillars and add an illusion of depth. My art teacher would be so proud.

The altar was the easiest piece of the whole thing: chopped up foam board, some card for stability, cut and shaped and decorated with milliput to add the Hephestial Mountains, coated in black tissue to give a nice strong black base to paint. I used drybrush to get a nice stone effect (see a bit further down)

And conveniently, the entire background of the scene is black, so I added the dome for More Optical Illusions! Because hey, if it worked once, do it again :D And also started layering up milliput for the tree-pillar bits.

And the last and messiest step before fixing the pillars and everything in place. Gold. Leaf.

The last bits to get done were the pillars, which I fixed in with milliput and glue.

Once they were set and painted, I glued everything in place and gave Hephestia her orb and behold, phase 2 complete!

And both sides together.

Finally, phase 3 - the cover. To keep things (relatively) simple, I went with the blood-red cover for Return of the Thief. Gave it a nice red basecoat, sketched on the design in chalk because lol, who uses tools to draw lines? Not me!

No in-progress pictures because I did it all in one run while listening to a webinar.

And as a special treat, more gold leafing!! I love the shininess of the figures on the cover of the book and thought “hey, that’s a sensible option that won’t leave you finding gold bits in your kitchen for days!” :D

Note to self: do not do this on wood again, it is very very likely the leaf will cling to the wood and require some repainting. This is a lesson. Do not forget (this memory will self destruct within 10 seconds of leaving this post)

For comparison before I did some touch-ups because of the stupid leaf going rogue

And behold, it is done :D

#arting about #craft #art #the queen's thief #megan whalen turner

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animebaby00 · 4 years

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I Want You to Draw Me Like One of Your Swimmer Boys ( Rin Matsuoka x Artist ! Reader ) - One-shot

(Inspired by the iconic scene from the movie 𝘛𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤)

"Hmmm...no that's not right. Maybe...this ?"

You made quick, tiny sketch lines across your pad of paper with furrowed eyebrows, the tip of your tongue sticking out of your otherwise closed lips.

After another few seconds, you pulled your face back to give a full look at what you had drawn.

A sigh left your lips, "No...that's not right either."

Oh the struggles of being an artist.

While you loved to draw and come up with ideas to create beautiful pieces of art...sometimes you would wake up with your brain empty of ideas.

And today just so happened to be one of those days.

You ripped off the piece of paper from the pad, crumpled it up, and threw it in the general direction of a trash bin that was already filled to the brim with paper that you had thrown out in the last 15 minutes.

You sighed and, for the millionth time, admired the room you were in and the things around you

Nothing stopped you from thinking about how much you loved your art studio.

What was once an old, unused office, was now a bright, supply filled room that your parents had magically transformed for you on your 15th birthday.

You had paper, pencils, both plain and colored, crayons, paints, chalk, pens, brushes...and not one ounce of inspiration.

You hardly ever got artist's block, so when you did, you got it BAD.

"Ugghhh….why can't I think of anythingggggg?" You groaned, tossing your head back dramatically against the back frame of your wooden chair that you currently resided on.

…

...

"You know you've wasted like a whole tree right ?"

Your head snapped back up and turned to the direction of your doorway.

An individual stood there with lightly tanned skin, maroon hair and eyes, a fantastic ( and sexy ) physique, and a small smirk that showed off his pointy, shark-like teeth.

Your eyes lit up, " Rin !"

He chuckled as you bounced up from where you were sitting, practically sprinting into his open arms.

You giggled, " What are you doing here ? I thought you were gonna hang with Sousuke."

"That was the plan, but he called and said he forgot he had an appointment with his physical therapist so today got moved to next week."

"Oh…" You had forgotten about his shoulder injury. Staring up at Rin, your eyes were filled with concern, " Is he okay ?"

Rin chuckled and ruffled your hair, " Don't worry, he's fine. He's actually getting better. A lot better than how he was before…"

Rin set his tote bag down on the ground next to your giant cupboard stocked with acrylic paints, " So since I had nothing else to do, I thought I'd come and see you. But you seemed kind of... frustrated when I came in. Everything okay ?"

You puffed out air from between your lips while lazily moving away from Rin to sit back on your wooden chair next to your easel, "Yeah... everything's fine. Just some stupid artist's block."

Rin's eyebrows knotted in confusion,"What the hell is that ?"

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and cheeks on the open palms of your hand, "It's just a time period when I sometimes don't have inspiration to draw or paint. No ideas come to mind. It's nothing bad it's just…" you paused, trying to find the right word, "...annoying."

Rin nodded slowly in understanding, looking once again at the mountain of crumpled paper sitting in the trash bin whilst pursing his lips to the side. He took a step towards you, placing a large, warm hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, how about you use me ?"

You looked at him, "Huh ?"

He smiled, " I'll be your inspiration. It can't be that hard. You've done portraits before right ?"

You blinked "Well, yea but…"

Such a hesitant reply caused Rin to frown

"But what ?" He questioned, squatting down to meet you at eye level

You bit your lip, "You'd...really do that for me ?"

He smiled,"Of course I would ! Besides, I think it'll be fun."

Rin stood up and walked to the black cushioned love seat in the back of your studio. He sat down and maneuvered his body at an angle, his arm resting on the head rest with a closed knuckle supporting his fist. He brought one knee up on the sofa while the other leg lay completely flat. Then he gazed at you with a sultry expression, his eyes half lidded.

You raised your eyebrow.

What the hell was he trying to pull ?

Rin cleared his throat, using his other hand to run his fingers slowly through his hair, as if he was taunting you.

Attractive was right...but you didn't miss the cheeky grin that laced his lips and exposed his pointy teeth.

"I want you to draw me...like one of your French men."

Silence.

More silence.

But then you snickered

And then you couldn't help but let out a full blown snort of laughter.

An iconic line from one of your favorite movies and Rin butchered the meaning behind it and the line itself absolutely flawlessly.

The list of things he was able to do to put a smile on your face, whether good or absolutely, cringy, horrible were endless.

Even after a good minute, you were still laughing and it hadn't ceased in the slightest.

This caused Rin to snicker, almost letting out loud bouts of laughter himself.

"God Y/N, breathe ! You're gonna pass out if you keep laughing that hard."

At this point you were hugging your stomach, your body bent and almost on the floor.

"Haha !...I...oh god I'm sorry !" You exclaimed, wiping a tear from your eye, "I just...ah, holy crap."

Laughing so hard had caused your stomach to cramp and your cheeks to ache, but it was a good pain that had seemed to kind of spark something within you as your "high"died down.

Rin was still staring at you, a smirk tugging at his lips as if proud of his work.

You spun on your heel to grab your sketch pad and a freshly sharpened pencil, a smile still evident on your face.

Rin had positioned himself in a more solid form with a gentle expression on his face as you dragged your chair to sit closer to him.

Your hand smoothed over the surface of the fresh, white sheet of paper that now sat in your lap, pencil resting on top of your index finger, held in place by your thumb.

"Thank you for doing this Rin. Really. It means a lot."

"Hey think nothing of it." He grinned,"You've helped me COUNTLESS times. Being your model is the least I could do.Now come on, let's get some artsy spunk back into that brain of yours."

You nodded eagerly and began to sketch Rin's features in soft, angled strokes, looking up every so often with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

".....so serious." he said huskily.

And all you did was smile.

#free! x reader #free! iwatobi swim club #free! rin #rin matsuoka #reader #rin x reader #cuteness #funny #artists block #inspiration #muse #artist reader #rin matsuoka x reader

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prosciuttulipa · 4 years

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Performance Art - Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Hello everyone!

This ficlet is dedicated to @softlimefluff as a little thank you for the OC Stand Design she did for me! Rohan is a character I’ve never written for before, so my apologies if it’s not in character! I did have a lot of fun trying to portray him though, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Pose for me.”

It’s a sunny day in Morioh. Breezes are common during this season, and one passes through the neighbourhood, tousling your hair and rushing past Rohan’s ears before dying down. Comfortable silence fills the air. Sunshine filters in through the trees, lights up your face, and he sees your cheeks are flushed. “Pose for you?” You ask.

“Yes. I’m losing precious time waiting.” He flips to a new page in his sketchbook, pen in hand. “Just sit where you are. You were watching the birds before, yes? Continue doing that.”

As per usual, it doesn’t take him long to get his sketch done. The proportions are perfect, the lighting defined, the details impeccable.

But something isn’t right. There is a lack of depth in your graphite gaze. The negative spaces feel like cheap imitations for sunlight. It’s missing essence, spirit, core. It is a piece that is easy on the eyes, a shallow aesthetic and nothing more.

Ridiculous. He has pressed his lips against yours, and hence he knows the warmth they bring. He has cupped your cheeks, the small of your back, your thighs, and hence he knows how perfectly your dips and curves fit into his. He knows how you work because he has observed you. Your crutches, your passions — all of it, he has taken the time to make sense of. So why won’t it translate?

He sketches another piece. Then another one. Then another. Plain. Flimsy. Empty.

“Rohan? Is everything okay –”

“Not now.” He hears frustration in his voice, and he snaps his sketchbook shut, thinking. “…You’re free to stop posing.”

He is glad that you don’t press for more. The sun lights up your gaze as you get up from where you are, another breeze playing with your hair. He thinks about that image as you head back in, and flips open his sketchbook once more. He draws it like it was, mid-motion.

Still not right.

You are Rohan’s only subject for weeks, and he fills sketchbooks with your expressions and poses. He tries different mediums. Charcoal grasps the texture of your skin, but its lack of color fails to convey how brightly you glow in the sun. Watercolour produces your soothing energy but teeters on the edge of melancholic, making you a faraway past when you are tangible, real, now. Oil pastels and oil paints are saturated and make you overbearingly intense. Acrylics are adaptable, but too adaptable — you stand out to him, and he will not use such a pliant and passive medium to portray you. Chalk. Crayons. He turns to photography, but he is always a shutter shot too late, capturing stiff shoulders and strange expressions. Even when he does manage to catch you unaware, the photos are disappointingly superficial. He hates all of them.

“Still trying to draw me?”

It has been a month since he has found himself working away at the mystery of portraying you. Rohan looks up from his sketchbook to watch you sit down with him at the dining table, a steaming mug between your hands. The sun filters in through the windows, catching in your hair.

He starts sketching out of instinct, but gives up once he sees that you’ve moved positions to look at the window. It doesn’t matter anyway — even in its preliminary stages, he knows the sketch is going to end up disappointing.

“…I’m sure you’ll get it.” He hears you say, and looks up to see you smiling, mug at your lips. “You are the great Rohan Kishibe, after all.”

“I am the great Rohan Kishibe.”

You huff out a laugh through your nose, lips curling up even more. He watches as you sip at your drink. He listens to your quiet hum.

Watch. Listen.

The realization knocks the breath out of him, and suddenly the day seems a bit brighter, a bit more vivid. Of course. How didn’t he see it earlier? Your charm doesn’t come from being captured and immortalized for all eternity. Expressions ever changing, moving, standing, sitting, but never truly still –

“Rohan, you’re going to break your pen.” Your voice brings him back, and it rings out in the quiet of the morning. “…Is everything okay?”

He nods, looks up and watches you, really watches you now.

Your smile is beautiful. “You figured it out?”

“Yes.” This may be the one time where he decides his sketchbook and pen are not needed, the one time where drawing and inking into paper is not the way to go. This is it. If he is going to make you art, then this is how you’re meant to be experienced — alive, present, charming audiences with every word you breathe, every move you make.

“Not going to draw me?”

“No.” He answers, “This is right.”

You are performance art, and he’s got the best spot.

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let-me-love-you-loki · 4 years

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Surprising Too Late Part I

Part 1

Nick

“Matt, hand me that shelf.” My brother and I were practically dripping in sweat as we helped our dad put in a partition wall in the garage that had once been our home gym. It still was, technically, but we’d moved some of the pieces around to make room for a new purpose.

Y/N’s birthday was in a week, and we had a surprise for her. When we’d met almost nineteen years ago—God, had it been that long—she’d been an art student. There were so many times when she’d beg the two of us to sit for sketches. I remembered the first time she showed me one of her paintings. It was a breathtakingly beautiful self-portrait. She’d given it to me as a present on our first anniversary. But in the years that followed that gift, our wife spent less and less time chasing her joy of art. It was as if the moment that Mattie was born, Y/N set aside everything except for our newborn daughter and us.

“Is that going to be big enough?” he replied, holding out a piece of varnished and polished wood.

Our dad poked his head around the corner. He was working outside, making sure that the window AC unit was sealed. “What are you putting on it?”

I pointed to a spread of jars filled with a variety of paintbrushes and tubes of acrylic paint along with a bento box Kenny had given her where she kept her chalk. Dad looked between the objects and the shelf in Matt’s hands before he nodded.

“Yeah, just tack an extra screw at the back of the bracket top and bottom.”

I grinned and dug into my pocket for two more screws. “This is going so much better than the swing set.”

Dad practically cackled. “You two helped me build your ring when you were teenagers. How you couldn’t follow some simple instructions is beyond me.”

“To be fair,” Matt said as he passed over the electric screwdriver and the level. “We were stubborn.”

“You were showing off,” Dad called back.

“True,” I snorted. “Matt, hold this down.”

Matt

It was hard to keep a straight face in the days leading up to Y/N’s birthday. We spent those final days in a panic. We ended up having to be in Jacksonville an extra day for a taping, and we ended up making panicked calls to our dad to get some final hardware stuff handled. From Friday to Saturday night, I don’t think either my brother or I slept more than a few hours. We took turns keeping our wife occupied while the other slipped away to the other house with the kids or to the garage to hang shelves or photos or art.

I spent Saturday night—the night before her birthday—going through boxes of drawings the kids had done over the years. Nick had gone out that morning and picked up a dozen picture frames. I picked out two drawings from each of the kids and tucked them carefully into a frame to hang on the wall or sit out on the tables in the space we’d made for her.

Nick had crept into her charcoal pencils and sketched the outline of the Tokyo Dome. It had taken a while, but the story of that first time he’d kissed her came out in the early days of our life together. It was a moment I didn’t begrudge them and I memory I hoped they kept with them forever.

I’d spent hours trying to figure out what my addition would be. After a while, I decided to do my best to replicate that moment when our lives together really began. I went through my iCloud and pulled up the photos from our honeymoon. There was half a dozen of that day on the coast where Nick and Y/N had exchanged their rings. It took three tries, but I finally produced something that looked like the lighthouse on the edge of Oahu.

It was the early hours of the morning of Y/N’s birthday when I finally slipped back into the house, bleary eyed and exhausted. Nick stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, and chugging a bottle of water.

“Everything’s ready,” I said around a yawn. I thought about making a cup of coffee. “Is she still asleep?”

“Everybody is. RJ was having nightmares, so I slept most of the night in his room.” My brother smiled a little. “Go get in bed. I’ll be there as soon as I check on little man.”

I reached out and hugged him. “Thanks, Nick. For everything you’ve done all these years.”

Nick locked his arms around me and squeezed me hard. “Thank you for letting me be here. For taking me back.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t going to cry. “You and Y/N are the most important people in my life. And this life is the one for us, no matter what anyone says.”

I padded down the hallway to the master bedroom. Y/N was curled beneath the blankets in the center of the king-sized bed. For a moment, I stood there watching her sleeping. I remembered the first time I saw her, the first time I kissed her. My wife was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t believe that I’d been lucky enough to have the last almost twenty years with her.

She snuggled close to me when I slipped into bed beside her. She pressed her lips against my cheek and tucked herself under my arm. Her head pillowed on my chest. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes.

Sometime later, Nick crawled into bed on her other side. He curled up behind her, his arm tucked around her waist. Together—just like we faced everything else in life—we went to sleep.

***

I woke up to a faint knocking. Sleep fell away slowly. I was warm and comfortable snuggled between Matt and Nick. They were both sound asleep, made evident by Nick’s slightly open mouth and Matt’s soft snores.

The knock came again. I sighed and sat up, crawling down to the end of the bed to avoid waking either of them. Rubbing my eyes to wake up, I opened the bedroom door to find my sixteen-year-old daughter.

“Happy birthday, Mom,” she said with a grin. “We made breakfast for you and Dad and Papa.”

I smiled, tears in my eyes. “I think Dad and Papa are out of it for a while. But we’ll save them a plate.”

She led the way to the kitchen where thirteen-year-old Nicole was piling eggs on the plates of her brothers. Ten-year-old Lee was carefully pouring orange juice into a line of cups. He turned and gave me a smile that looked exactly like Matt’s.

“Morning, Mama! Happy birthday!” he said as he carried one cup at a time to the table. He handed six-year-old Ty his favorite cup, earning a wide grin from his youngest brother.

The kids pulled me toward the table and tucked me into my normal place between Mattie and Nicole. The boys lined up on the other side of the table. Seats at the head and foot were empty, waiting for Matt and Nick to join us.

Mattie looked around the table and frowned. She stood up and practically stalked down the hallway back to the master bedroom. I hid my laughter behind my hand as I heard her pounding on the door, yelling for her Dad and Papa to get up right now you’re ruining Mom’s birthday breakfast!

Ty grinned, his smile pushing into his cheeks, and giggled. “Mattie’s yelling at them!”

RJ looked over at his baby brother and nodded. “Serves them right. It’s Mama’s birthday.”

My heart swelled at the sweetness from my sons. Lee looked after his sister and scrambled from his seat to run to join Mattie. He stood next to her, pounding his fist on the door in time with hers.

“We’re coming, we’re coming,” Nick growled playfully as he swung open the door. I saw him grin at our eldest daughter before he leaned over, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder. “Do you think we’d miss your mother’s birthday breakfast?”

Matt appeared right behind him, swinging Lee up onto his back. “We were up late getting Mama’s present ready.”

“Present?” I asked, arching my brows. I followed their movement as they carried our eldest son and daughter back into the kitchen. They deposited them in their seats, slipped around to press a tandem kiss on my cheeks, and smiled as they sank into their seats.

“Who made this?” Matt asked, looking down at the plate in front of him.

“Nikki,” Ty said proudly. She was his favorite, and he loved everything that she did.

Matt’s brow lifted as he beamed at her. She blushed and looked away. “It looks amazing, Bug,” he said before taking a bite. “You cook like your mother.”

Nicole glanced up at me, pride on her face. I kissed the top of her head. “You can help me make Thanksgiving dinner this year,” I whispered.

***

After breakfast, Matt and Nick tied an Elite bandana around my eyes. Then they took me by the hands and led me through the house. I could hear the children following along, whispering and giggling at each other. I looked around, trying to get an idea of what was happening, particularly when we left the house for the late September sunshine.

Nick talked quietly as he guided me over the uneven bumps and dips. I followed a map of our property in my head as I tried to figure out where they were taking me.

“Okay,” Matt said from my left. “Mattie, you got the camera?”

“Yep,” I heard her reply.

The bandana fell away, and I squinted in the bright light. We stood outside the garage that the boys had converted into a home gym when they bought their homes next to each other. I stared at the door, not sure what was happening.

Nick stepped in front of me, his hand on the doorknob, and grinned. “You’ve given up so much for us, Y/N. Your passions and your hobbies. It’s time you got those back.”

The kids filed in behind Nick, Mattie walking backward to keep her cell phone trained on me. Matt pushed me forward with his palm on the base of my spine. The moment I stepped over the threshold, I started to cry. The space was no longer a gym. Somehow, the boys had created a whole new room. It was painted a soft heather grey and stocked with every art supply I owned. My bento box with my chalks. Mason jars of brushes and acrylic. An easel and canvases of every size. Parchment paper. Everything I could ever want or need to draw, sketch, or paint.

The walls were hung with frames of every size and shape. Some held pictures the kids had drawn over the years, signed at the bottom with their names and ages. Two of them were clearly by Matt and Nick. A rough black and white sketch of the curving roof of the Tokyo Dome. Another carefully drawn outline of a lighthouse along a coast.

A palette had been turned into a photo frame—I suspected Brandon’s wife had something to do with it. It was splashed with bright colors, and circular holes had been cut into the wood. A picture of each of my children had been placed inside. A larger oval had a picture of the three of us at the wedding, the two of them standing in their suits on either side of me. A photo we were desperately grateful for after the fact.

I turned around in circles, one after the other, trying to take in everything. My heart pounded in my chest and the tears poured down my cheeks. Mattie followed my every move with the camera, her hands shaking as she cried, too. Nicole sniffled.

“Do you like it?” Matt asked softly.

Nick leaned his chin on his brother’s shoulder. The two of them watched me apprehensively, almost terrified.

“I love it. So much,” I whispered, trying to take a breath. “You… you did this… It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”

A moment later, I was wrapped up in their arms. “We love you,” Nick whispered in my ear as Matt cradled my head in his hand. “Happy birthday, Sunshine.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @lilred91 @imagineall-the-fandoms @maelleoute @librathepheonix13 @justamess44

#the too late tales #too late tales #surprising too late part 1 #matt jackson #matt jackson fanfiction #nick jackson #nick jackson fanfiction #young bucks #young bucks fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #matt x reader #nick x reader #matt x reader x nick #polyamory #polyamorous relationships

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illusioncanthurtme · 5 years

Photo

Yay!! Edmund is finally finished. This is my first ever 3d illustration, and I’m pretty happy with how it came out. I’m really excited to do more, especially since its almost summer and I’ll have more time to work bigger and better, without a crazy time crunch.

I included some wip pictures too! the first is everything done, just zoomed out and in my messy apartment. Please ignore that lol

He is made of clothes hanger wire, armature wire, aluminum foil, and super sculpey. His head is the only thing that moves, bc its removable and a wire sticks out to go into his torso- something i did by accident :P After he was baked, I primed him with grey primer paint (which HURT, right after I did that it brought out all the imperfections in his face. You can see, his face looked much smoother with just the pink sculpey). Then, I painted his skin, hair, and eyes with acrylic paint, and gave him other softer tones like blush and stuff with chalk pastel. His clothes were ken clothes I sew to fit his body (i know, not ideal, but it worked well enough).

The room is made of wood i stole from the woodshop trash, and wallpaper i drew digitally, printed, and pasted to the wall. The paneling is made of super sculpey I painted brown, along with a very thin piece of sculpey for the detailing on the door. The little rug is a sample piece of curtain I took from one of the rooms at my school. They have SO much little sample stuff in there; i plan on stealing to my heart’s content in the next few days so I can use it to make more stuff over the summer.

Anyway, yeah, i loved this project. I’ve got some other ideas now too! I’m going to make another oc named Marion, and Link (i’m thinking the original first game link). BUT, i want them to be fully articulated! I’m so excited!!

Anyways, Hope you like this. I’ve got one more week of school left before I’m done for the year. Wish me luck!

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artificialskyway-archived · 6 years

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the boy with the earring [the making of]

✿ genre: art au; artist!reader

✿ pairing: Y/N x Taehyung

✿ length: 4,782

✿ A/N: this came out longer than expected. this is written in the past, to the moments when Y/N meets Taehyung and they embark in a love affair creating the boy with the earring. the final part will be set decades later and we will see where Taehyung is after this moment.

✿ part 1: the intro , part 3 (final) [coming soon]

refresher: 34 year-old Kim Taehyung had a minor breakdown in the streets of downtown Iloni when he learned that his first and only true love had passed away. Y/N was a wealthy woman, married to Park Jimin and an incredibly talented artist. He learns that Y/N’s last wish was to have her artworks released to the public in hopes of starting a revolution. The most famous of her paintings released? the boy with the earring. [part 1]

Year: 3055 City: Iloni

Before Kim Taehyung was an employee in Iloni’s biggest banking industry, he found himself moving around from job to job. Taehyung was born into a middle-class family where both of his parents had to work separate jobs to provide for their family. Even then, that wasn’t always enough to get their family of six by every month. So, when Taehyung was old enough he tried to find little jobs that would help bring in some extra money for the family. He’s done this since he was 15 and he never complained because in his eyes he got to see different aspects of life and labor.

Something else to know about Taehyung; he always stood out. Even when he wasn’t trying to, everyone around him always seemed to notice him. His tall stature, his light chestnut brown hair, his endearing smile, and the earrings. Kim Taehyung was known for wearing silver-studded earrings; it was his trademark. With his striking features, strangers couldn’t resist but to stop and marvel at the boy with the earrings.

He looked like he belonged in a different, more perfect world with honey-glazed locks that reached the edge of his eyebrows, leading you right to his eyes with a stare that could captivate you and wrap you in a warm embrace. Taehyung worked hard for his family, but he always felt something missing from his life. He didn’t blend in with everyone around him, never understood the life around him, but he always held out a heart full of hope.

As for Y/N, she was born into an upper class family. Financial stability, secure lifestyle… the only real job of hers was to find a suitable husband to marry into when she was old enough. She was very family oriented and lived to please her family, understanding the way the social world ran. She did what was expected of her and never complained.

Family oriented Y/N was a gentle yet spunky girl, with a deep passion for art. People warned her about expressing this love and talent of hers, but that didn’t stop her from spending her days on the third floor of her family home, painting canvas after canvas.

Now, when finding a suitable husband, her parents took her likes and dislikes into consideration, with the one requirement: he must be of the same social status, having enough money to support her and the family.

So, 23 year-old Y/N was still content with this decision, she didn’t mind it. Afterall, she enjoyed her life, and her parents even ended up finding a few great gentleman, narrowing down their list to three suitors.

Kim Seokjin, the classic, elder suitor.

Jung Hoseok, the vivacious and gentle suitor.

And Park Jimin, the charmingly elegant suitor.

The choice was Y/N’s.

Soon after a few dates, Y/N made her choice and was to be married to the elegant Park Jimin.

The news broke everywhere; the wedding became highly anticipated by nearly every person in Iloni. So much so, you’d think this was a wedding for the royal family.

With the plans Y/N’s parents had in mind, it just may be a royal wedding. In any case, preparations for the wedding called for more helpful hands in her family’s mansion.

And here is where two worlds begin to collide.

Kim Taehyung’s father worked as a sous chef at one of Iloni’s top four-star restaurants. And when the head chef was recruited into Y/N’s family kitchen, Taehyung’s father was brought along as the sous chef of Y/N's kitchen.

With that, his father also brought his 24 year-old son, Taehyung, along with him to make some extra money for the family.

While his father was a chef, Taehyung became a butler-in-training at the household, shadowing the family’s head butler, Kim Namjoon.

“Okay, so your main task for now is room check.” Namjoon eyes Taehyung, leading him up the stairs and down one of the mansion’s many corridors.

“Since more of Y/N’s family members and friends will be paying visits, they’ll often stay the night, or spend long hours here. The family will also host countless cocktail parties and events here. And it is our job to make sure their living situation is comfortable and taken care of.”

Namjoon leads him up the second floor, “Just enter the bedrooms, living spaces, bathrooms, and make sure the rooms are intact, tidy, and if not then inform a maid.” Taehyung nods, the job doesn’t seem too hard, so he has some confidence in this.

Namjoon continues, “Now, eventually, you will also wait on the family members. Making sure they are aided whenever necessary. Take charge of their schedules of the day, events of the month, etcetera. Also, the good thing about working here is that this family is one of the good ones. A family you’ll soon grow to love.”

By now, Taehyung has zoned out from Namjoon’s speech, the intricate finishing of the shelves and baseboards, the extravagant decor has all taken Taehyung’s full attention and he is growing obsessed with the house’s intricate beauty. Namjoon continues to give Taehyung the run-through of the job, telling him about Y/N, her family, and the rest of the staff.

In truth, Namjoon doesn’t think Taehyung is up for the challenge, especially during such a busy time for the family. The elder had his doubts, often double checking the rooms Taehyung is in charge of and questioning the boy about every detail from his to-do list.

But Taehyung has been on the job now for about three weeks and has seemingly done well so far. He has done his best to keep a low profile, slowly and lazily checking rooms as the minutes dragged.

Amid the simple task, Taehyung found plenty of time to wonder among the hallways of the mansion, he made it an adventure, shamelessly walking into different rooms, sticking his nose where he shouldn’t but the boy was curious to see how a family of such status lives.

One evening, no different than the others, he found himself at the foot of the staircase that leads to the third floor. No one’s ever told him not to go up there, but it was obvious no one should be up there. But, bored and curious Taehyung decided to take it upon himself, chalking it up to a sense of adventure and goes up the stairs.

With every step, his heart anticipated what the third floor housed, excitement filling his bones like a little curious child.

As he reaches the top of the stairs he is welcomed into a large living area, decorated with eclectic rugs, wood-oak coffee tables and two white sofas. The walls are covered in vibrant and expensive art pieces leading the eye up to the two soft chandeliers. On the other end of the living area is a hallway, leading to a few extra rooms.

With the breath taken from him as he gazes in awe, Taehyung follows down the hallway, stopping in front of the first door, jiggling the doorknob until he realizes it’s locked. He continues further down to the end of the hallway, stopping at the second door which happens to be halfway opened already.

Taehyung’s burning curiosity gets the better of him as he pokes his head further into the room. A gasp leaves his lips as his eyes are greeted with numerous paintings, and the aroma of acrylic paints hit his nose.

He has stumbled into someone’s personal art studio, and he can’t even begin to explain the excitement boiling in his body. In awe and amazement by the many finished and unfinished paintings taking up every inch of the room, his feet walk him further into the room. The smell of oil pastels and acrylic paints surround the air around him. It’s beautiful.

He glides his slender fingers over the painting, when he nearly jumps out of his shoes at the sound of Y/N’s voice. “Don’t you know fingers on a painting is no good?”

Y/N stands at the doorway, arms folded across her chest, smirking towards the boy who found his way into her studio.

“I’m sorry, I just sort of found this place and-” Taehyung embarrassingly stumbles over his words, as he moves away from the painting, heading for the door.

“You don’t have to leave. Do you like art?” Y/N asks, still standing in the doorway, she tilts her head up to keep eye contact.

“I do.” Taehyung responds, his eyes light up and she liked that. No one has ever really understood Y/N or why she still bothers with art. Maybe he'll be different.

Y/N encourages him to keep looking around her studio, she moves inside, approaching one of her unfinished paintings. She let him snoop around silently, finding him intriguing and his person so incredibly endearing.

Taehyung comes to a large blank canvas laying on one of her tables, finding no paint or pastels on it, except for a single, silver chain-like earring. He picks it up, admiring the way the light reflects off of the simple silver. She’s watching him eye the dangling chain and the way his soft features glow under her yellowed lighting. “Why don’t you try it on?” Y/N encourages him.

He glances over to her, waiting for a second approval. She nods in his direction and watches as he puts the earring on his left ear, next to his circled stud.

She smiles, “It suits you.”

Taehyung blushes, dropping his head, eyeing the floor as if he dropped something. This is the first time he’s ever met the famous Y/N and she’s so ethereal in his eyes as she compliments him.

Y/N walks towards him, picking up the blank canvas and carries it over to one of her easels. Without saying a word, she starts sketching on the white canvas, her eyes glancing back and forth from the beginnings of her sketch to her newfound muse, the boy with the earring.

“Um, what are you doing?” Taehyung asks, immediately feeling flustered and regretting his decision to come up here.

“Shh, stay still. I haven’t had this much inspiration in almost two weeks. Don’t ruin this for me.” Y/N confesses, winking at him.

Taehyung continues to stand there, not really sure on what to do next. Does he stay there? If he leaves would that technically be disobeying orders from one of his bosses? What if Namjoon is looking for him?

Taehyung’s mind runs a mile a minute, but he decides to stay and let Y/N finish her sketch. He’s looking at her and he notices her eyes, focused yet holding such a soft gaze.

“How… Uh…” Taehyung is stumbling over his words and he’s silently beating himself up at how dumb he probably sounds. “How long have you been doing this?” He asks, motioning towards all of the paintings in the room.

She hums, suggesting she’s thinking about her answer, “Ever since I could hold a brush in my hands.”

“You’re really talented.” Taehyung continues to eye the rest of her art works. He never imagined being in one room surrounded with so much beauty. He tries to think of more things to say but no words are forming and he’s getting too nervous.

Before he knows it, she’s stepping away from the easel and looking into his eyes, “We are done for today!”

“For… today?” Taehyung asks, does she really want him coming up here again? He sure hoped so.

“Yeah! Come back tomorrow, okay? We’re only getting started.” She winks at him another time before turning around and leaving him in her studio alone.

Taehyung isn’t sure on what he just got himself into, but he leaves the room with a soft smile on his face at the thought of another moment spent with Y/N.

The next day, Taehyung meets the foot of the third floor stairs yet again. The soft smile is still present on his face, he could already smell the paints from Y/N’s studio. Once he reaches her door, he finds her fixing up her sketch, humming a melody to herself. Taehyung just might be in love, or maybe he’s just all around nuts, falling in love with a woman that is nowhere near his league.

He enters the room and Y/N expresses great pleasure in seeing him show up. She commends him on his timing, and immediately positions him the way she wants him for this painting.

She’s wasting no time and Taehyung likes the way she is taking charge, completely anxious to get started on her piece.

As Taehyung stands with his right arm resting against one of the walls, she tells him to gently rest his head on that arm.

She stands there with pursed lips, not liking the way it looks until she moves a few of his curls towards the front, opening up his hand, letting his fingers lazily stretch out.

Taehyung froze at the feeling of her cool fingers touching his and he hoped to God that she didn’t notice how tense he turned.

As Y/N dips her brush into one of the paint colors on her palette, she begins her journey. He can see how ecstatic she is. It’s as if this was the moment she’d been waiting for her whole life.

After a few silent minutes passed, she speaks up. “Y/N.”

“Huh,” Taehyung asks, completely caught off guard.

“That’s my name.” She responds without moving her eyes from the canvas.

“Oh. I- I know.”

“Well,” She breaks her focus to look at the boy, “why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Kim Taehyung,” he responds, trying not move too much, but his nerves are working at full force.

“Kim Taehyung,” she hums. Taehyung softly smiles at the way his name sounds, like a gentle melody.

“Well, Taehyung. I know standing isn’t comfortable and I’m sorry. But just bear with me, this is going to be worth it.” She tells him, focusing on the soft curls as they illuminate under the sunlight streaming in.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I’m supposed to be on my feet anyways, it’s my job.” He laughs nervously, dropping his head to look at the floor.

She walks up to him, so close he can see every hue that reflects in the iris of her eyes. Her hands are still soft and cool as they reposition his head back up and on his arm against the wall. “Don’t move,” she whispers, fixing her silver earring as it dangles from Taehyung’s ear.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” Taehyung asks, breaking the silence, trying to focus on something other than what just happened.

“Yes. I never liked the dullness of this city, to be honest. My parents have books and magazines from years ago and you would never believe how beautiful Iloni was before everything went to shit.”

Taehyung believed it. In fact, it was the only thing he really ever believed.

She continues her thought, “I wanted to recreate Iloni, give it a rebirth. I still want to bring the city back to life.”

Taehyung returned back down to the main floor, half heartedly doing his job for the remainder of the day.

His head was in the clouds, and everyone noticed a shift in his behavior. He was lovestruck and his co-workers all believed he finally met someone in town.

As the days passed, Taehyung continued his job, moving between kitchen and rooms. Between the shifts, he went up to the third floor almost every day, spending only an hour up there while Y/N slowly fixated and perfected every detail of the painting.

The only other time he would see Y/N was at the dinner table. While the family comes together to enjoy their meal, Namjoon, Taehyung and a few maids would stand at the back wall to wait on the family. During those dinner times, the two shared many innocent glances, hidden smiles and a wink or two. A secret affair was brewing and they were sure no one suspected.

“Y/N, you spend so much time up there in your studio lately! What are you conducting up there?” Her mother asks, trying to start up some light conversation.

“A revolution.” Y/N responds with a smirk as she locks eyes with Taehyung for what seems like eternity.

He drops his head to hide his smile and the family continues on with another topic of conversation. Namjoon nudges Taehyung’s arm, until he looks back at his elder. Namjoon scolds the boy with his stare and that was enough to tell Taehyung everything he needed to know.

After the family finish up their night, Namjoon and Taehyung are in the living area, straightening out the pillows and bookshelves. The staff and family have all gone home or retired to their bedrooms for sleep, leaving the two alone in silence. Taehyung continues to absentmindedly straighten the same pillow for minutes and Namjoon rolls his eyes at the lovestruck boy.

Walking over to the boy, Namjoon takes the pillow from Taehyung’s hands, straightening it and placing it back onto the sofa.

“Taehyungie,” Namjoon starts, not looking at the boy, simply continuing his job. But the tone in his voice was obvious enough for Taehyung to know what was coming next, “you know what you are doing could get your family in trouble. Not just you.” Namjoon confesses to the boy.

“Hyung, I’m not going to get anyone in trouble. It’s nothing.” Taehyung moves to the shelves, knowing that he’s going to hear what Namjoon has to say, regardless.

Namjoon sighs, walking over to the boy. He knows the boy is too deep in love to hear what he has to say. He then reaches into his vest pocket and hands Taehyung his paycheck. Namjoon holds his grip on the white envelope, finally looking at the boy, “when love is at the forefront, there is no such thing as ‘nothing.’”

The boy nods, placing his paycheck in his back pocket. He understands what type of grave he is digging himself into, but he’s certain that this is where he wants to be. The two men get ready to head home, but Taehyung’s mind is whirling with so many thoughts, and he wants to tell his elder what he’s feeling but the words aren’t forming.

“Namjoon,” the boy calls out as his elder was heading out the door. The look on the boy’s face tells Namjoon everything.

Taehyung’s in love with Y/N, if he could he would run away with her, start a new life with her. He will make sure she is taken care of. And Namjoon can see every detail of the future Taehyung has built with Y/N in the boy’s eyes and he can see the realization as Taehyung already knows it can never happen.

The elder sighs, trying to find the right words, he doesn’t want to hurt him, but he believes the boy needs a reality check. Namjoon sees that the boy is in all too familiar territory. He’s been there himself, with someone in the same family. And so, Namjoon simply doesn’t want the boy to end up in Namjoon’s shoes.

“They are upper class, Kim Taehyung. And we are the workers. With love that is forbidden comes inevitable pain. You got that?”

Taehyung knew Namjoon was right, he didn’t have to be so harsh and straightforward about it, though. It only made Taehyung feel worse, rolling his eyes at Namjoon like a child does when their father lectures them.

Little did Taehyung know, Y/N felt the same way about him. She filled a few of her notebooks with sketches of Taehyung, her smile appearing whenever she focused on his eyes in every sketch. He was beautiful and he made her feel like she wasn’t alone, like she was seen and understood. Will Jimin make her feel that way? She knew he was a sweet man, caring for her more than a regular man of his status would, and for that she was grateful.

But still, Y/N looked forward to that one hour every day.

With each passing day, and hour spent the emotions between the two continued to grow, becoming harder to overcome and hide. Taehyung became braver, moving in closer every day when he greeted her. She would reposition him even when he hadn’t moved just to feel his skin under her touch. She wondered if he could read her mind and if he could, would he just kiss her already?

As he watches her, he decides to ask her a question he’s wondered for a while.

“Why do you agree to marry for your parents, Y/N?”

“Why do you agree to work these jobs with your father, Taehyung?” She responds without skipping a heartbeat. The boy says nothing, letting her speak up first. “We all make choices, Kim Taehyung. Either for ourselves or for someone else.”

“Are you happy?” He asks, genuinely concerned.

“I’m happy because my family is happy.” Her honesty hits a chord in Taehyung because he understands exactly what she means.

Before he left that day, Taehyung boldly decided he was going to kiss her.

He had thought about it the entire time with her, until finally. He closed the space between them, grabbing her hand to intertwine her fingers with his and he lowers his lips to place a soft kiss on hers. She kisses him back in relief, the warmth of his lips on hers is what she longed for. He kissed her with such fervor, making sure the moment would last.

He finally breaks the kiss. Both of them are completely breathless and dizzy, this was euphoria. Her lips on his was the feeling he’ll remember until the end of time.

The next day he shyly walked into her studio, they exchange sweet small talk and soft giggles with each other. Moments like this continued on for the rest of their moments together. Every time he came up, they’d often share a passionate kiss while also talking together, sharing their deepest and lamest thoughts with each other. They had built a bond together, as they fell further in love and somewhere in the back of their minds, they knew that bond could only ever exist inside Y/N’s studio.

Every session would end happily, except for one moment when Taehyung decided to be as honest as he could. He wanted to try and tell her what he thought, no matter the outcome he needed her to know this wasn’t a fling for him.

After he kissed her goodbye, he whispers the words on her lips, “run with me.”

“No.” He pulls away to look at her.

“Y/N! You feel what I feel, we are meant for each other, run with me!” His voice is more urgent, he didn’t mean it to be, but his emotions are taking over.

“You can leave now.” She responds, cleaning up her paints and paintbrushes.

She hated how mean she sounded, but any other way and she would crumble at his feet, breaking her family’s heart in the process. She loved him and wanted to be with him, but Y/N also knew her duty to her family.

On the fourth week, he snuck his way up to her studio, where she was waiting for him. He walks over to where her stool where she sat. He’s towering over her, placing his fingers are on Y/N’s chin, slowly moving her face up towards him. He’s smiling widely as his lips kiss her forehead, “Hi, Y/N,” he whispers into her skin.

She smiles, greeting him back while also slapping his hand away from the covered canvas.

“Ow,” he exclaims, “Don’t I have the right to see this painting since I am the focal point here?” He asks, kissing her forehead one last time before moving to his position.

“Sorry! That’s not how this works, Kim Taehyung.” She waits for him to get in his stance, “Besides, I think today is the day! It’s almost complete!”

Y/N’s smile could make the sun look like a miniscule star in Taehyung’s eyes. He found her completely ethereal and this moment was bittersweet. What did it mean after she’s finished? Will this be the end? The wedding is around the corner, afterall. And Taehyung’s heart grew sadder with every god forsaken harsh thought that crossed his mind.

“Done!” Y/N exclaims, throwing her brush down and stepping away to gain a better look.

“Finally! Now, can I see it?” She stops him just before he gets to step behind the canvas.

“Not yet,” she tells him, her gaze gliding down from his eyes to his chest. Her fingers fiddle with the buttons of his white shirt.

Y/N bites down on her lower lip as she moves to unbutton the first two buttons of Taehyung’s shirt, placing her lips against the skin of his chest. He looks down at her, inhaling sharply at the sweet sensation. His mind tells him to take in every moment and remember the feeling. He knows what is going to happen and what this ultimately means.

His hands glide up Y/N’s sides, stopping at her waist, pulling her into his body. Y/N continues to unbutton the rest of his shirt, placing small kisses on every inch of his skin. She swiftly slides his shirt off his shoulders and their hands begin to move hastily.

Taehyung kisses her cheek before picking her up and letting her wrap her legs around his waist. They continue to kiss each other with so much passion. Their kisses are breathy and messy but they devoured their love with each touch.

He guides her to the floor of her studio, unclothing themselves. Taehyung kisses her stomach, her breasts, he wants to leave his mark on her body. Instead, he leaves kisses over her body, hoping to burn her skin with his memory so she’ll never forget him.

Their bodies entangle with love and passion, with soft gasps and quiet moans filling the room. He intertwined his fingers with hers as he becomes one inside of her, resting his forehead on hers. Y/N’s breath begins to match the swift moves of Taehyung’s hips into her. She imprints her touch on him, running her hands over his body and through his hair, raking her nails into his back with every hit of euphoria that Taehyung gives Y/N.

When the high is complete, Y/N and Taehyung lie there on her studio floor, stilling their breathing, figuring out how to approach the inevitable conversation.

“I won’t ask you to runaway with me, Y/N.”

She looks at him, while his eyes continue to stare up at the ceiling. He proceeds, “I want you to run with me, but that is out of my own selfish desire. I know how much your family means to you. You sacrifice so much for them, no one would sacrifice so much for someone they don’t love.”

“I do love them. My whole life I’ve wanted nothing but to make them happy,” Y/N confesses. She loves them, but she also loves Taehyung. But she’s making her choice, not for herself but for someone else and Taehyung understands.

“My father and I are leaving tomorrow after the wedding. We have another job waiting for us. I don’t think we’ll see each other again after this, Y/N.” He turns to lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand, placing his other hand on her cheek. “Don’t forget about me, okay?”

After they’ve dressed themselves, she gets up to move the painting towards the wall, placing the cover over the canvas.

“Ah, hold on… why can’t I see it, Y/N? Do you know how hard it was to stand for you all these weeks?” He groans into her neck as he wraps his arms around her from behind.

“Are you saying you regret this?” She teased him, pushing her body back into his and his grip tightens.

He turns Y/N around, picks up her hand and places a kiss on her fingers, “I’d do this all over again for you, my love.”

She walks over to her table, grabbing a single yellow flower from her vase and her earring that she let Taehyung model for her.

When she returns in front of Taehyung, she places the yellow flower in his shirt pocket and opens his hand to place her earring in his hand, “Y/N,” he breathes.

She shushes him quietly, kissing his cheek then making a slow and gentle line of kisses from one side of his face to the other. “I love you, Kim Taehyung. I could never forget you.”

Y/N heads for the door, she opens it and before leaving she turns towards Taehyung, “You’re going to start a revolution.” She winks back at him and disappears into the corridor.

Taehyung stands in the middle of her studio, breathing in the memory one final time before closing the door behind him.

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wallpaperpainting · 4 years

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right-or-ron · 6 years

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My 2017 of daily creative exploration is almost at an end. Frankly, I can hardly believe it. I set out on January 1, 2017 with the goal of posting in this blog each day, hoping to offset the negativity in the world and in my own spirit with art and artists and various expressions of creativity. Along the way I have discovered so many things, been inspired, and in many ways rewired my own brain to better take in all the good things around me. I also found the time to do a lot of art, perhaps more than I have ever done since I graduated from college with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

Over the next three days, I’ve decided to use this space as a sort of gallery. Though I am not very good at exact dating of things, I will attempt to show you examples of my artwork from this year, semi-chronologically. It was a year that I thought would involve more painting but, as it turned out, I did a lot more “painting” with craft foam, burlap and Modge Podge in the form of some mosaics. It was also a year where I tried to push myself into new directions and challenge my own established way of viewing and things.

Without further ado, here is part one of my 2017 Gallery:

Punk Rock Warlord (Joe Strummer Vs. the Void), Mixed media on canvas, 2016

Technically, this painting of Joe Strummer was finished right at the end of 2016 (I think on December 30 or 31, to be exact). However, it was done in the spirit that led me to my Year of Creating Dangerously, so I include it here as a very important jumping-off point for me.

Joe is a great hero of mine because of his own spirit and willingness to put himself out there in a vulnerable but powerful way. Instead of a traditional portrait, I chose to picture him battling the forces of brutality and banality (what I called the Void) with his chosen weapons: his voice, his words and his guitar slung around his neck. I intended it to just be an acrylic painting but the addition of shredded newspaper with Joe’s lyrics on them became a harbinger of things to come for me in 2017.

I had a difficult time completely shaking my disgust at the political reality in the world at the beginning of 2017, particularly as it played out south of the border. That led me to creating this next piece that appeared on my blog on inauguration day:

Divisible, Mixed media on canvas, 2017

My roots are in the United States so I couldn’t help but be distressed watching my former country from my vantage point in Canada. I had drawn a number of expressionist-type American flags with oil pastels. I tore those up to create this collage, Old Glory shattered and in disarray. It was very cathartic for me to make this artwork which I called “Divisible” as a counter-point to the “Indivisible” claim of the Pledge of Allegiance I used to give before the start of my school days.

About three years ago when I was getting back into art, I tried to recreate some famous portraits using oil pastels. It was a way to train myself and fire up the creative Jones again. This year, I decided to created my own self-portraits but in the style of a famous artist. I ended up finishing four of them which I share below, side-by-side with the original:

Self-portrait Klee style, Chalk Pastels, 2017

In descending order, then, is Paul Klee, Pablo Picasso, Joan Miro and Marc Chagall. I confess to having a lot of fun with these, particularly the Chagall-style self portrait as, just like the original, I added autobiographical details to the picture (e.g., Colorado in the dream bubble, a church and a bit of Spider Man on the canvas, Ottawa’s parliament hill out the window). These portraits were really great at getting me to think color and form and help me see things with a different set of eyes.

I had marvelous intentions from the beginning of the year to create a painting per month in 2017 dedicated to a favorite artist of mine. I ended up making three, none as pure paintings. The one below was finished in February, 2017:

Maya Rising, Mixed media on canvas, 2017

Maya Angelou is a great inspiration to me. This work was completed with a combination of black markers and acrylic paint, over photocopied sheets from her book I know Why the Caged Bird Sings, along with the words to her poem “Still I Rise”.

I have done many portraits of people – my co-workers, some friends, and some famous folks but I have avoided drawing my family. Frankly, that scares me the most and I think I get frozen up worried about getting them right. Below is my attempt at drawing my daughter from a beautiful photo of her when she was about four or five years old:

Picking Dandelions, Oil Pastels on paper, 2017

I ended up with something very impressionistic but I was still very dissatisfied with it. Why? Because I didn’t think it looked like my daughter! I have come to appreciate it more over the course of the year but am bound and determined to get her right sometime in the near future.

Because this year was about creativity to me, I spent a lot of time researching different artists. At times that would lead me to attempting to recreate something they had done to stretch myself in new artistic directions. Jean Arp was a Dadaist who created some works by dropping geometric shapes onto a canvas. I tried the same thing with bits of craft foam dropped onto sheets of construction paper. The results are below:

Little did I know that this seemingly simple artistic lark would lead me down the road to mosaics. These geometric patterns led me to thinking about stained-glass types of artwork, with shapes bound by black lines. I started experimenting with images having to do with the crucifixion (we were nearing Good Friday and Easter) and I came up with these small paintings on paper:

I was trying to stretch myself again, thinking expressionist lines, solid colors, geometric shapes, and unusual glimpses of a familiar subject. From these ideas flowed the idea for a large painting, one of the few pure acrylic paintings I did this year, and the idea for a large cross to be on display at my church for Easter Sunday. Below is the painting, posted on Good Friday, and below that is me with the Easter Cross. Note the continued use of geometric shapes and solid colors:

Crucifixion Coronation, Acrylic on canvas, 2017

There was a wonderful coming-together of ideas and imagination at this time of the year for me. I was beginning to see the possibilities in this art form. As I have time in my day where I am part of running an art studio, I found I was often experimenting with things, trying things out. I found some leftover craft foam in our stores and used it to create a quick self portrait on paper:

Little did I know that just four months into this year I discovered the style that would define my art for 2017 more than any other. I was turning into a mosaic-maker.

Tomorrow in part 2 I’ll put a few of those artworks on display in this blog gallery.

A Year of Creating Dangerously, Day 361: Ron’s 2017 Gallery, part 1 My 2017 of daily creative exploration is almost at an end. Frankly, I can hardly believe it.

#Art #Artist #Crucifixion art #drawings #famous self portraits #mosaics #paintings #Self Portraits

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aaminahwrites · 6 years

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15 QUESTIONS WITH: FAISAL HUSSAIN

Faisal Hussain has always been a creative at heart and his love for helping others allows him to use his creativity to spread love and positivity. His landscape paintings bring a sense of peace to his audience while his charity pieces bring a feel of compassion and a cry for help. Following is our ‘question by e-mail’ about his art and charity work, and a little bit about his background.

Aaminah: How did you get into art?

Faisal: Art was a hobby initially since childhood, I loved illustration, reading, and learning from childhood. I participated in community creative and youth events and gained 50 hours’ experience in graffiti spraying with a local graffiti artist. I took GCSE and A-level ‘Art and Design’ and eventually became Freelance in first year of A-levels in 2012. I decided to take my art work into the community at various charity events and I focus a lot on marketing my art on social media platforms. I am co-owner of the Freedomline clothing brand @_freedomline_

A: Tell me about the style of your art, where it started from and how it evolved.

F: Illustration and landscape impressionism are my main areas of focus. I loved painting sceneries with watercolour, acrylic paints and oils and portraying reality through graphite, chalk, spray cans, and various other materials to create texture in my work.

A: Who is your audience?

F: My audience is mainly the youth, but it’s targeted at anyone who inspires to grow through art.

A: Tell me about your background. Where did you grow up, what was your childhood like and how was school life?

F: I grew up in the Millfield area of Peterborough which was deprived of government funding; the City Centre where I was born was known for having a working-class population. Due to my granddad’s effort of coming over into the UK as one of the first Pakistani workers, my family became established in Peterborough. As immigrant families like ourselves started saving more, we moved out the central ward due to the lack of services, criminal activity, school-catchment area problems.

Primary school was a pretty awesome time; it gave me the scope to fairly learn the fundamentals of many subjects. Secondary school was a journey of personal growth, I managed to find myself personally, mentally and socially.

A: What is your favourite piece of artwork you’ve done?

F: My Palestine A-level final exam piece. It showed me how much pressure I could put on myself and my creativity to paint a large acrylic art piece.

A: What are you trying to communicate with your art?

F: That it is a therapeutic medium, and that you can still make a living through art. You can still work in other areas and still be an artist.

A: Which creative medium would you love to pursue but haven’t yet?

F: Digital design, which I will in a few months’ time.

A: How was the Radical Love Exhibition at the Crypt Gallery?

F: It was a heartfelt gallery, words cannot express the emotions, feelings and realities of how the art portrayed female refugee struggles and third world narratives of love.

A: What’s your biggest fear?

F: Dying knowing I couldn’t achieve everything that I could have potentially achieved in life; personally, spiritually and creatively.

A: How do you work?

F: I use my experience and skill set from in academia, volunteering, work and creativity, and try to apply and improvise it in every situation I’m in. I like to learn from every situation that I’m in, whether I’m successful or not in the task.

A: What other artists have been inspirational to you?

F: Muhammad Ali (Aerosol Arabic), Banksy, Claudio Monet, Van Gogh and Andy Warhol.

A: Tell me about the projects you’ve done with the BBC.

F: My recent project was to do with working with the BBC 5 Radio Live project on immigration, communities, Brexit and the city of Peterborough. Working withtwo well-known artists PositiveArtsUK and Tizer enabled me to refresh and develop my creative skill set. We aimed to work with other community members to portray our views and experiences of Britain on the wall mural, on BBC East and BBC 5 Live Radio.

A: Tell me about your previous charity projects.

F: I have mentored ‘troubled youths’ in a voluntary capacity within a school environment and the local youth club to help them achieve goals and proactive within society. I have also had my own youth hour on the local radio station as a host for Salaam Radio in the summer of 2016. I have been involved in various charities such as Children of Adam and Islamic Relief by fundraising through radio shows, social media management and street collections.

I have also managed to help feed 5000 meals to the needy in Peterborough throughout 2015. I have worked with the Student Schooling Association (SSA) within the university to campaign for January exams and the Campus Awareness programme, and organised events specifically for the students such as the culture festival and the Eid festival. I have been volunteering for Peace Child International by participating in a drama project, and participated in a community graffiti project to paint a mural on a local underpass in 2010.

A: Are there any charity projects you’re currently working on?

F: I am still currently volunteering with the charity Children of Adam in Peterborough. I’m looking forward to participating with them on the radio programmes in Ramadan, feeding the local homeless and participating in their national and international projects.

A: Tell me about ‘Official KNOW.’ How did it start and what direction is it heading in?

F: Founded in 2012, KNOW is a trusted community education platform for people who love to learn. We believe that everyone has something to teach, and everyone has something to learn. Harnessing the power of the sharing economy, KNOW brings together students, experts, teachers, leaders and scientists from around the world to bring you bitesize, digestible knowledge delivered in a modern, engaging way and to the point of understanding.

Knowledge is not ‘one-size fits all’. We all have different interests, different ways of understanding, and different attention spans. We all have such different backgrounds, experience and expertise. Our strength lies in our diversity as a community. We can learn something from everyone.

Whether you want to learn about history, politics, health, science or nature, KNOW connects you with those that are in the know - and allows you to become one of them. We’ve just released our new website www.kn-ow.com, so look out for more info!

You can find Faisal on Instagram @art.by.faisal and be sure to visit his event page on Facebook at Facebook.com/ArtByFaisal to stay updated with his work.

#long interview #artist #calligraphy #art #young british artists

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kaeles-blog1 · 7 years

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Top 30 Baby Books

•1. Anderson Halperin, Wendy. Love is…. Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing, 2001. Picture book. Designed for all ages.

The words from this book are adapted from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible. I love this book because it’s all about love and loving no matter what happens in your life. The words are few, and the pictures speak for themselves. Each page is illustrated with pencil and watercolor, with about 11 little pictures that tell a story about people loving on each page.

•2. Buehner, Caralyn, and Mark Buehner, illustrator. I did it, I’m Sorry. Dial Books for Young Readers, 1998. Picture book. Ages 2 to 5.

This illustrated book with pictures made of oils and acrylics by husband of the author, Mark Buehner, is again, a really different book compared to the rest in the books on my list. The characters are animals like beavers, hoggs, flamingos, and polar bears that experience moral dilemmas such as “virtues of honesty, thoughtfulness, and trustworthiness.” Each page presents each animal’s dilemma and then three answers. The reader is encouraged to choose the right answer.

•3. Bunyan, John. Pilgrim Progress. Moody Press, 1964. Novel. Ages 12 to 16.

This novel tells adventurous story of a pilgrim named Christian who leaves his family to journey to the Celestial City. He faces a spiritual battlefield, alone to choose the right paths that will lead him in the right direction to the Celestial City. He struggles with physical and mind “obstacles” along the way. This is a classic novel that I strongly suggest for classroom use and discussion for young readers.

•4. Chambers, Aidan. The Present Takers. W.W. Norton & Company, 2005. Children’s novel. Ages 8 to 12.

This novel touches on the issue of how children can become abusive. This story is “based on the actual events in the life of a friend’s daughter who was being bullied at school.”

•5. Crews, Nina. The Neighborhood Mother Goose. Greenwillow Books, 2004. Photography picture book. Ages 3 to age 6.

This book is a compilation of the popular and not as well known nursery rhymes, lullabies, and poetry for children. It is illustrated by full color photography, edited with Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator. The illustrations are of a city setting, designed to enhance each of the nursery rhymes.

•6. Estes, Eleanor, and Louis Slobodkin, illustrator. The Hundred Dresses. Harcourt Children’s Books, 2004. Chapter book. Ages 6 to 10.

This story is about a Polish girl, Wanda, who claims to have a hundred dresses, all different styles and colors. Yet, she wears the same blue dress to school everyday. The other girls tease and ask her questions about her hundred dresses. Wanda doesn’t seem to be phased; she continues with her story of a hundred dresses and still only wears her faded blue dress. She wins a class drawing award after she has moved away, and the rest of her classmates learn a lot about Wanda. This is a great story for teaching a moral lesson.

•7. Heap, Sue. Cowboy Baby. Candlewick Press, 1998. Picture book. Ages 2 to 4.

This book is another bright and colorful one, with illustrations done with acrylic and watercolor, by the author. This book is useful for helping children learn they need to go to bed. Sheriff Pa comes up with a plan to get Cowboy Baby and his pals to go to bed.

•8. Hindley, Judy, and Brita Granstrom, illustrator. Eyes, Nose, Fingers, and Toes. Candlewick Press,1999. Picture Book. Ages 2 to 5.

Illustrated by Brita Granstrom, this bright and colorful book is all about toddlers learning all the different things they can do with their eyes, nose, fingers, and toes. I really like this book and think the large font and colorful pages, along with the readers interaction makes for a really fun time. This book was different than most because all the backgrounds to the illustrations look like kids drawings out of crayon or chalk and the kids are done with sharp edges and more detail.

•9. Hoban, Tana. Colors Everywhere. Greenwillow Books, 1995. Wordless picture book. Ages 3 to 6.

The pictures in this book are photographs, which have also been displayed at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. The idea of this book is for children to see all the colors around us and see them in new ways. Hoban wants everyone who looks at this book to obtain "awareness and vision." The world will never be seen the same.

•10. Katz, Karen. Counting Kisses. Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing, 2002. Picture book. Infant to age 4. One of the Classic Board Books Series.

This “kiss and read” book is so fun for mommies, children, and the whole family! It is a countdown of kisses to help bring a peaceful goodnight to the baby. The mommy starts by kissing ten kisses on the baby’s toes, then sister, grandma and daddy each kiss something on baby, such as baby’s dimples, and chin, and the family cat even licks “three fuzzy kisses on sweet little ears.” This story is so cute and would be awesome to read to an infant with the whole family involved. What a great way to unite a family.

•11. Krumgold, Jospeh. Onion John. John Newberry Medal. Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1959. Chapter book. Ages 9 to 12.

This story is about a boy named Andy, whose best friend is Onion John. Onion John eats onions like anyone would eat an apple. Their peers try to change Onion John and everyone close to him in his life. This book shows a boy growing up and dealing with conformity and the world.

•12. Konisburg, E.L. From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. Newbery Medal Winner. Simon & Schuster 1970. Novel. Ages 9 to 12.

This fictional story of a brother and sister is a funny and fascinating story about family and growing up. Claudia feels unappreciated by her family and takes her brother and runs away from home, to live in a museum for about a week. Through it all she discovers what she is searching for and learns a big lesson.

13. Konigsberg, E.L., The View from Saturday. John Newbery Medal. Atheneum Books,1996. Chapter book. Ages 8 to 12.

This is a cute story of four students who become good friends. Their teacher is a paraplegic who chooses them to represent their sixth grade class in the Academic Bowl competition.

•14. Lee, Harper. To Kill a Mockingbird. Pulitzer Prize. Warner Books, Incorporated, 1988. Novel. Ages 10 to 14.

To Kill a Mockingbird is another classic novel, dealing with issues of The Great Depression, racism, and the pubescent coming of age life lessons. Scout and Atticus, brother and sister, learn about trust and trusting one’s own thoughts; they learn what they actually believe for themselves. This is an awesome book for teaching about theme and moral issues.

•15. Lobel, Arnold. Mouse Tales. HarperCollins Publishing, 1978.

Picture/Chapter Book. Ages 6 to 8. One of I Can Read Book Series: Level 2.

This book and series is intended to help children learn to read and enjoy reading in chapter book format, but wish pictures also and not an overwhelming chunk of words all at one time. These are great books for children who like animals and their adventures.

•16. Markes, Julia, and David Parkins, illustrator. Shhhhh! Everybody’s Sleeping. HarperCollins Publishers, 2005. Picture book. Ages 3 to 6.

This story is about a young child who is encouraged to sleep by the thought of everyone else sleeping. It shows different people sleeping, such as a teacher, a baker, a postman, a baker, the president, and a farmer. The pictures, illustrated by David Parkins are bright, big, and colorful; the text is large and looks captivating to a child.

•17. McGhee, Alison, and Peter H. Reynolds, illustrator. Someday. Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing, 2007. Picture book. Ages 4 to 8.

This inspiring book is about a mother’s love for her children and the hope to see them live their lives to the fullest potential. This mom wants to see her child’s dreams come true.

•18. Patron, Susan, and Matt Phelan illustrator. The Higher Power of Lucky. Newbery Medal. Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing. Novel. Ages 9 to 12.

Lucky is a girl with a lot of unanswered questions, searching for something in this world. She runs away from home, but is certain she will be captured and taken to an orphanage. Lucky wants “higher powers” to help her get through her situation. This is a fun and quirky story for children trying to figure out life.

•19. Rawls, Wilson. Where the Red Fern Grows. Great Stone Face Award. Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers, 1961. Novel. Ages 10 to 14.

I loved this book when I was in grade school. It made me laugh, smile, and cry! It is about a boy growing up in the Ozarks, who obtains to redbone hounds. They become his best friends and best companions, as they go on adventurous, hunting and exploring the woods they lives in.

•20. Sachar, Louis, and Adam McCauley, illustrator. Sideways Stories from Wayside School. HarperCollins Publishing, 1985. Chapter book. Ages 9 to 12. One of a series.

This is a really fun chapter book, with each chapter telling a short story of “humorous episodes” in a Wayside School classroom. The teachers and the students are uniquely strange and there is always something bizarre going on.

•21. Scieszka, Jon, and Lane Smith, illustrator. The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales. Caldecott Medal. Viking, 1992. Ages 5 to 11.

This was one of my absolute favorites as a child. It has all the classic fairytales every kid grows up reading, but rewritten in a humorous and somewhat twisted way. I think most ages can enjoy revisions of their favorite classic children’s stories, with pictures as silly as their rewrite.

•22. Sebold, Alice. Lovely Bones. Little, Brown & Company, 2002. Third place fo the Discover Great New Writers Award. Novel. Ages 13 to 25.

This is a fictional story, purely for entertainment about a family who experiences a murder and the journey they take to regain peace and closure after such a devastating time in their lives. What makes this murder mystery a unique piece of its kind is that the girl who was killed is placed in heaven, where she can see her family going through all this pain and trying to figure out who killed herself, Susie Salmon.

•23. Sendak, Maurice. Where the Wild Things Are. Caldecott Medal. HarperCollins Publishing, 1963. Picture book. Ages 4 to 12.

This is a story which takes you into the imagination of a young boy’s mind. Commonly referred to as a “darker” themed book taking you into the emotions of a defiant night in one kid’s world. This pictures are symbolic and the message is deeper than the surface level images and words. Max doesn’t want to go to bed, so in his room becomes a wild forest with the “wild things.”

•24. Silverstein, Shel. Giving Tree. HarperCollins Publishing, 1986. Ages 4 to 8. Picture book.

A young boy is loved by a tree that gives and gives, and continues to give. He plays with this tree, swinging on her branches, and eating her fruit. As the boy keeps growing bigger and older, he begins to want more from the tree. The book is about teaching to not only receive but to give back. The message is deeper than you might think the first time you read it; a great story for teaching young children how to give.

• 25. Silverstein, Shel. Where the Sidewalk Ends. HarperCollins Publishing, 1974. Ages 9 to 12. Compilation of poety.

Known to be one of Shel Silverstein’s most popular books full of poems and illustrations, it is hilarious and funny for all ages really. He really knows how to make people laugh through his poems and related drawings. This book is unique and will capture any kid. Teachers have given it good reviews for using this book in a classroom to help brighten the mood.

•26. Slater, Dashka, and Hiroe Nakata, illustrator. Baby Shoes. Bloomsbury Children’s Books, 2006. Picture book. Ages 2 to 5.

This is a fun book, illustrated with water color by Hiroe Nakata, about a baby and his mommy. They go walking around the city doing different things, like shopping, playing with chalk, crossing the street, walking through the park with grass. Everywhere and everything he does gets a new color on his new white shoes and then they don’t look new anymore.

• 27. Stevenson, James. July. Greenwillow Books, 1990. Picture book. Ages 9 to 12.

The biographical children's story is about the author’s adventures during the summers him and his brother spent at their grandparent’s house near the beach. There are many pictures on every page, designed with watercolor.

•28. Swift, Jonathan. Gulliver’s Travels. Dover Publications,1996. Novel. Ages 10 to 18. This is an adventurous and fanciful story of a man named Lemuel Gulliver who travels to strange lands and comes across abnormal people situations. Such things happen to him like meeting a land of six inch people, then a land of giants, and later a land of horselike creatures who rule over the humanlike creatures.

•29. Williams, Margery, and William Nicholson, illustrator. Velveteen Rabbit. Random House Children’s Books, 1958. Picture book. Ages 4 to 8.

A classic tale of a stuffed rabbit who gets tossed in the trash by his owner. The rabbit has wished to become real his whole stuffed animal life and finally his wish comes true.

•30. Yourgrau, Barry, and Neil Swabb, illustrator. Yet Another NASTYbook: MiniNasties, Vol. 3. HarperCollins Publishing, 2007. Ages 9 to 12. One of a series.

NASTYbook is a compliation of fun, very short stories. “This third in the NASTYbook series is the funniest, grossest, most wild and weird yet,” a note from the publisher. The characters in this book have things happen to them like swallowing a cell phone and eating up all the furniture.

#books for children

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