Skip to main content

More Doodles

I still haven't got around to drawing the picture that I wanted to draw, but I did do a little five minute sharpie doodle and a painstaking sketch that I'm wholly unhappy with.  As soon as I was done, I had only one thought on my mind: PAINTSCHAINER!!!

And speaking of Paintschainer, they have yet another filter out, and you know what that means.  Remember all those random sketches I found in my sketch book awhile ago?  Most of them didn't look so great when I ran them through Paintschainer.  But what would happen if I tried the Canna filter on them?


Amazingness and random glow-balls.
Apparently this new filter, which is so wonderful on soft pencil lines, has a weird fault.  If there's nothing in the bottom right hand corner, it puts a weird glowing rainbow ball there.

And here is the new sketch, heavily inspired by the art of Kazuya Minekura (okay, so it's a sweaty Koumyou).  Even though I drew this on paper with pencil, I decided to try inking it on my tablet before running it through Paintschainer. I think it might actually be easier to do it the old-fashioned way.  


Popular posts from this blog

Short Story: Distraction

It was an office, not unlike any of the other offices around the city. There were windows, visible to the lucky few cubes on the ends of the rows. Then there was Vera's cube, situated next to the row of manager's offices. Today she was lucky, someone had left their door open and precious slant of sunlight escaped, warming her back and washing out half of her computer screen. "I never realized your hair was red," Tracy dumped a large stack of paper on her desk, "The florescent lights make everything look so soupy." "What is that?" she pointed at the stack of paper. Tracy only offered compliments when he wanted a favor. "I need this entered," he smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "You have a secretary," Vera waved a freckled hand to her left, "Ask him." "He's sick," Tracy gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting his long dark eyelashes. Vera sighed and fought back a smile. Tracy was such a s...

Poetry and Stuff

Grief:Peripheral The flicker of bluish light filters out what is missing; there is only one set of boots by the door, an apple sits on the counter uneaten, and even if you donā€™t make a sound, the notch in your heart is nothing personal. ____________________________ Yeah, I know I said no poetry, but I lied. From The Culling, because what girl doesn't dream of  owning a library with a ladder?  I just posted the last chapter of The Bond, which I'm not 100% satisfied with.  It is the end of this novella, but the story continues in the next book of the series.  One of my biggest problems is I don't have a title for the next novella.  The working title was "The Break," which doesn't really work.  If you have an idea or two, throw 'em in the comments.  

Creative People and Pain

What's more, says Csikszentmihalyi, the openness and sensitivity of creative people can expose them to suffering and pain. As electrical engineer Jacob Rabinow told him, "Inventors have a low threshold of pain. Things bother them." And yet, few things in life bring more satisfaction and fulfillment than the process of creation. -From an article by Hara Estroff Marano