Once upon a time there was a purple alien horse with four eyes. And here he is!
This sketch needs to be cleaned up and refined. This is about the halfway stage. : P
You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, Ian is explaining what happened between himself and the independently wealthy woman who called herself Spanks. (And yes, she’s into kink. How could you tell?)
I’ve had zero internet for a bit now, hence the late or missing blog posts. I have a wee bit of time with a super slow hot spot, so . . .
You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, the Quentin of ages past is uncovering a very unfortunate situation and rescuing a college student from the clutches of a creep. Go, Quentin!
Here is a drawing I made purely with the airbrush tool (except for, like, ten clean-up marks with the pencil setting). This is from a wildlife photograph, and I was studying in particular the muscles and crevices along that pretty bay’s haunches. I was also very interested in the way the sunlight made the dry grasses and flowers appear white in the glare.
I’m also exploring the way shapes layer on top of each other in foreshortened bodies. I think it looks pretty good now, though I had to go back in to the drawing after I saved it the first time to add a lot more color and depth to both horses–they were washed out in my first efforts.
You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, Quentin is very embarrassed to find that the whole group of hunters wants to avenge his early romance-gone-sour.
Here is a drawing I made with the pencil and airbrush tools. I’m experimenting with making visual outlines before filling in the contouring shadows. How do you think it’s going so far?
You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, Quentin is building towards the exciting thing that happened to him on a Monday seventeen years ago.
I’m still working on getting the feel of bony structures into my drawing hand. Progress is slow, but steady.
Also, I’m processing all manner of leftover emotional falderal, so drawing bones is highly soothing.
There is a tub of s’mores ice cream lurking around in my freezer. I’m pondering this fact.
You’re reading Victor Poole, and I’m torn between the desire to purchase takeout and vanity (because I’ve been working on my body composition). Also, in my current novel, the cyborg director is being a total ass (and is about to be metaphorically whupped by our handsome hero).
Here’s my drawing of a pelvic cradle and some femurs. I think ‘iliac crest’ is fun to say.
You’re reading Victor poole, and in my current novel, Mary Stephens is under discussion.