The great thing about doodling on lined paper is the lack of self-inflicted pressure for it to be good
The problem? (Merian-ish)
I like these? (Noah St. Claire, TSE)
Rather a lot. (My Raya sunshine, not quite finished)
even some unfinished ones (Regency styled lady, very unfinished)
And cramped ones where I ran out of room to finish (Emenor practice for @isfjmel-phleg)
And they’re not just on lined paper, they’re on my food journal/skin health tracking journal. (a younger Raya, and the best smile I’ve ever done I think)
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He took both of my arms tenderly, his dark gaze covering my green one; a slight light of melancholy and remembrance swimming in it. He patted me and hugged me with his eyes. As if his irises were begging to know something. As if his mind was searching to learn something: something he once had, he once possessed, once cherished with all his heart. Something, he now wishes to have, retake, repossess again.
Something he desperately seeks for and needs from the depths of his soul.
- It is as if I already knew you. As if you already belonged to me. Your eyes, your smile, your small round nose, your shine of beauty, your delight when you’re happy, your eyebrows arching, the freckles on your cheeks, the enchanting sound of your giggle, your look, your touch, your soft golden hair's wave, and much, much more that I can’t explain.
He kept me still, his hold getting tighter and tighter, inked arms snaking my waist, gluing our bodies to each other till it became one.
A beautiful piece of art, our art.
- I barely know you, though there’s something about you that makes me want more. A part of me,no, my whole being aches for you.
He leaned against my ear closer and closer, whispering words that made my stomach sensitively churn, butterflies dancing at the melodious chant of his voice:
- Just the mere rhythm of your breathing calms my heart. Just the mere greenish glistening look of your orbs controls my thoughts. You have that unique taste of home, so familiar, so similar, so knowing, so lovely, so homely to my soul. Like an ancient brief encounter: far, old, lost…but that my memories could never erase.
His nose sniffed my skin, snuggling against it, gripping my flesh as if there was no tomorrow.
- You smell like the sun. His words barely made it to my ear, hesitating, shaking, as if he was telling his darkest secret, his deepest weakness.
- Mi Sol. Hard firm lips met mine, pouring their sweetness in my throat.
And our art bloomed.
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Újdonság díjat kapott a Merian Rt. Rex Ciborum kacsamáj parfé szarvasgombával nevű terméke
Békés Megyei hírlap, 2002.11.28,
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Hyporicum Baxiforum with Snails and Beetle, by Maria Sibylla Merian
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Catchfly with Red Admiral, Rose with Fox Moth, Iris, Hoverfly, Jewel Beetle and Orchid (after 1691?). Circle Maria Sibylla Merian.
Watercolour and body colour on parchment.
Image and text information courtesy Staedel Museum.
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Díjnyertes termék a Merian Orosháza Rt. több készítménye is.
Békés megyei Hírlap, 2002.11.09.
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