I'm taking the time to mess around with Blogger's super fail editing system. We'll see how it turns up. In the meanwhile check out some older posts and give me some feedback.
Here we have a few pieces and sketches that were done over different periods of time. Some years, others just a few days ago. Questions about a specific image? Ask away. :]
They say God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle. So what about death? How do I prevent my last breath? Life isn’t something I want to take for a gamble. But I still take my next step Without knowing what comes next, or what is left. Have you ever felt an emotion evoked from the way your life might compel A situation that demands you to scorn the heavens with a sharp gaze of rebel? Or speak up with the voice of a rebel, in the same manner of the devil With a similar interest of an arsonist, a prerogative of a fire starter Alongside the lament of a martyr? You want to believe, but you can’t convince your heart or Lift your hopes up or even look back up. “He” hides behind the sky; A veil of blue with specks of white That prompts us to worship with what we feel is our minds eye. Why am I so afraid to lie? And why do I pray for the day that I die? I can’t fathom a distance that high; A place where which he dwells, the “Most High” The one where my questions go to for replies I guess this questioning is what they call a sin Because apparently against him, I can never win Even if my faith is what makes him great In the end I’m just one man, riding the span of my life until the end of my plan. So until that day arrives, I’ll just do what I can… I just pray for another day, but no matter our origin you can’t deny that life is great.
[Instrumental by Nujabes. Lyrics by Alexis E. Rodriguez]
Leaves in the wind, resemblance to my sin Eyes wide shut; I need to open them again It's ‘bout that time to call one of my friends But I'm so tired of calling people to depend [on]
Same old song, day to day Money to make, bills to pay Dreams to fulfill among the array Of broken promises and empty things I used to say
Head hung high, but my eyes are so low I'm like a car speeding down some distant expansive road There are no signs left to show Which way an imminent loser is supposed to go
I keep moving on, again to no end I should accept all the friendly hands that extend And they won't ever come back again Because I played in dirt and got filthy hands
A baptism of the soul- rejuvenation of the old; I need to focus on my goals or I might end up getting coal --- "I need to do this on my own" But I hesitate, -something just feels wrong
I hold in my hand a mask made of facade While I lie to your face and then pray to God Meandering aimlessly, attempting to do myself some good But I just keep walking on and sing: "Misunderstood"
Monotony turns day into the night Obsess fuels impulse Compelled by the standards of the socially admitted Enforced by the like-minded ideals Minds past their prime and into their hierarchy Ordering the advance of the youth’s principality Boredom overtakes inept perpetual thinking Inklings of artistic behavior ensue Actions occur Heartbeats whir Words are slurred
So I've been hooked on their album for a few weeks. It's been on repeat on my Zune. Chester French, they mess with people like Pharrell, Diddy, Talib Kweli, Bun B and so many other unexpected artists! Clinton Sparks says they sound like "The Beatles mixed with Outkast; yes, they are THAT good..." And I have to agree.
Here's a study I did just last night. I was playing around with some of my supplies I haven't used in ages. Done on matte board, drawn with graphite first. Added a few layers of matte medium, and a layer with cobalt blue gouache for a cool undertone. Then I simply colored with conte crayon. The scheme is tetradic with the yellow scarf over the purple dress, and her pinkish skin over the vibrant green backdrop.