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©2004-2009 ~spoonbard
:iconspoonbard:

Artist's Comments

This was done aaages ago actually, but is one of the few pieces of art that I'm still pleased with. Thought I'd put it up here for the hell of it :3

Comments


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:iconsayem:
Lol you are 10 times worse than me when it comes to being too self-critical, the stuff you've done is all great! Neways, like this one so much, gna +fav it.
:iconkandinsky-prince:
Woah! i remember this one, this is the onw you did for hannah, right? Do you still have the text you worked from, cuz I never read it XD

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ding dong lmao
:iconspoonbard:
Ah, I meant to post the words up actually... thanks for reminding me ^_^
This pic is an illustration of a passage that a friend, hannah wrote:

"There she is. There, in the footprint shaped patch of longer grass. Greener, deeper. Irregular, pointless. Her lines are blurred; a chalk painting of someone’s childhood dream being drip-drip drip-dripped away in pouring rain. But the sun shines coldly on this field, through the reaching leaves, the shadows blacking her face with disease. A sticky sheen of dew on her skin. Her lips parted, her eyes open and full of water. Might she have a chill? One arm outstretched, limply, her fingers adopting a natural inward curve. Fingernails lightly coloured - beige, shimmering, with red red red under the tips. The other arm, curled over her stomach, bears a lattice of brown scratches, a secret writing in pain. Her legs, long and pale, lie slightly too far apart for a lady; the soft insides of her slim thighs take the breeze. In gauze and silk, lightest of pinks, she lies like a discarded ribbon. Her chest is a blue sunburst. Her bun unravels into the green, a smooth coil of perfect nut brown. What do you want to be when you grow up? Her left foot is rocked back on itself, the blush slipper half ripped away, the delicate silk ties digging into stiffened flesh. No dancer’s foot, this. No more. The wind moves the trees to sympathy; their shadows stroke her all over. Would she shiver? Would she close her eyes, draw breath and scream? No. she lies, to be found. She waits."
:iconparvipica:
this is so neat! i quite like it. it's fun to try and think of what the hell's going on there.

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It's not a pitcher. It's a photograph.
:iconcaptainoscillator:
aww...it's like a broken music box ballerina.

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"Lord what fools these mortals be."
Yep, Vampires...cool.
:iconspoonbard:
Hehehe, nice way to think about it :D
:iconcc-jab:
like the dirty colors :D

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JABBB

Details

October 21, 2004
228 KB
794×343

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