Tomes Technique

Painterly visions in digital form.

Tag: Artistic Process

  • Revival

    Revival

    Old friends coming back into the mix has me missing the cats I’ve known. I should have taken more pictures when I had the chance. Their patterns are already lost to my memory. I have another pet request come in and I’m in the feels.

    Feline Fine

    The renewed innocence of childhood nostalgia has me going floral once again. In my mind, the cicadas fiddle and fireflies light the nite all year round. Daisies remind me of youthful days. Dusted and gleaming beneath the flapping of wings, they straighten their pose for the stars.

    Who Do You Think You Are?

    Living to counter the nonstop negative in the world, I’m reminded bleakly of the time at hand. From local government to the country, to the globe at large; I am disappointed and distressed. The only thing I feel is certain is that we all bleed red and enough has been spilt.

    Rust revival, in the belly of the beast
    Workers on the picket line, rising from the east
    Swamp-fire gospel, justice in the fight
    Voices in the millions, marching through the night

    contrition

    And yet there’s a call of the void. A sort of solemn satisfaction in knowing the outcome and feeling the pull of the siren’s song. It’s never to become. Perhaps the light at the end of the tunnel truly is the birth canal to the next life. Reincarnation has me rethinking my perspective.

    Hello, Goodbye

    Sleep, perchance to dream. I went through a sleep study and will get the results this week. I use to sleep so well as a kid. I use to dream deeply. I remember waking up feeling renewed by slumber’s sweet kiss. Where the world fades and slumber takes hold. A portrait of stillness, the allure of the unseen, cradled by the earth and blooms.

    Surrender

    It’s been a busy week and I’m roused by backs again. The quiet beauty of curves and lines entrances, hypnotic in its energy. I don’t mind this resurrection.

    Fragmented Memory

    I feel rejuvenated by the arch of the spine. Backs are sexy without overt sexuality. The stories they tell are whispered in the ear with a tickle of the tongue.

    Boo-Tay

    Fleeting moments of reflection, stolen glances of lighthearted life, this is what I hope to capture. A regeneration of the soul, a wanderer through the darkness of the universe, finding a connection between texture and tone. Reanimating from tragedy to comedy.

  • Insulation

    Insulation

    With the weather being bipolar, I can’t help doodling the winter in the air, with the sun just peeking its nose out. It doesn’t snow here (“where were you for the snow of ‘2010?”), but a layer of permafrost seems appropriate. Just me and the frost are up.

    6 under ground

    Seclusion has me deciding to have a little fun with rendering lens flares. I’ve only done it once before and well, I just want to add a little sprucing up of color for the scene. I tend to be too dark at times, but I want to keep this one a deeply shadowed scene.

    Lumina Veil

    Taking a look at a photography blog, I see a pic that gets me excited. As I’m doodling, I have to know what the berries are. According to Siri, Japanese barberry seems the likely answer. Figures I’d pick the Japanese variety. I can’t escape it, Japan must be my spirit animal.

    Here Comes the Sun

    Claustrophobia is settling in again. My space feels so small, like I’m contorting to make it all work. The feeling of being confined is anathema to me. “If I fits, I sits”? Nope. I’m more “I’m not sugar and spice and everything nice. I’m sage and hood and wish a mufuka would”. Still, this feeling of being trapped remains.

    Just nod if you can hear me (Mad World)

    I’ll forever be drawn to the isolated, the dark side of the moon. It’s a place of shadows and secrets, a silent expanse reflecting a loneliness that mirrors something deep within me. These eyes, holding a subtle luminescence, seem to gaze out from that same hidden realm; a space both melancholic and profoundly beautiful. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most profound beauty lies not in brilliance, but in the quiet contemplation of what remains unseen.

    Jadeite Flame

    Seems like there’s so much division in this country. So much to keep us separated, “not like us”. We’re already an isolation nation. Our bodies are here, but where are we? The algorithm is making us all lonesome.

    a view for two

    I’m thinking about doing a series of doodles. What’s to stop me? Charging past fears of inadequacy, I’ll give bare backs a try. I’ve toyed with them once before and enjoyed the experience. Besides, what could go wrong?*

    *famous last words

    Sun’s Heat

    I like the way a slight change in a pose can say something entirely different than before. I try to have eyes set the mood. The body harmonizes to create a verse of its own.

    What are you waiting for

    My lock screen background is one of my favorite older (almost a year!) doodles. One look and I want to bring it out to play too. Feeling like making this one rebellious in her cocoon.

    Replying with Sign Language

    There’s a playfulness in a look that I want to capture, a divide I want to enclose. It’s not waking life, it’s a dream you know.

    Powder Fresh

    Now for a wee change in perspective and focus of light, the body has this solo. A snarky little smirk and he’s got me.

    Touch of the Rogue

    Maybe a flicker of memory, maybe just some algorithm that looks familiar; a solitary moment.

  • Color Bloom

    Color Bloom

    Another floral mood hits. I’m fine with this. It’s soothing to the soul to think of the wonders of our universe. I’m dreaming of soft breezes wafting the delicate scent of life. It’s certainly not fall in my head, nor outside in the below average chill forming.

    In the Air Tonite

    Feels like the new year is getting impatient. Settle down. One holiday at a time. Stay in the moment, stop and enjoy the roses; it’s your only chance to indulge in that consciousness of life.

    Blood Roses

    Float amongst the beauty, don’t struggle. The jellies are in bloom and I’m just a spectator in this endless ocean.

    Nebula Within

    A pair of doodled hands get mistaken from afar for a raccoon, so now I have to doodle a trash baby. Little heart bandits, that’s what they are. There’s one that’s made itself a home in the bamboo forest of the yard. I’ve caught glimpses of it stealing from my thriving compost bucket. Go ahead, get you some grubs.

    Night Stalker

    I see an ai dress online I’d like to doodle, but dislike both the stereotype model with five feet of pure legs and the generative (buy art from real degenerates!) nature of the image. That witch needs a ride and some healthy thighs.

    See how high she flies

    I’m feeling tension as the week passes. The holidays feel like more stress than they ought to be. I have two thanksgiving’s to go to this year, so I won’t complain, but feel blessed. With all the color lately, I had to go a bit dark.

    Cipher’s Point

    I’m into balance and a sucker for a surprise in the color palette. I attribute this to Kevyn Aucoin. Makeup is shockingly similar to painting. Just a canvas waiting for inspiration. Perspective is all we need.

    The Hex Girls

    Of course the Aurora Borealis is hitting most of the US and I’m back to wanting color, color, color. I see a local photographer snap a gorgeous shot of the beach. Tried as I may, I couldn’t see the aurora for myself. It inspires me to doodle a picture of my own.

    Magnetic Mayhem

    Time and space, color and darkness, these concepts swirl in my head like the corkscrew. The murmur of a dream; the croon of a glitched reality. The digital ghosts are looped.

    Corrupted Canvas

    I’m one of those people who likes to push myself to do what scares me artistically. While I oil paint mountains, digitally rendering these peaks have alluded me. A friend shows me a stunning photo from Pikes Peak and I’m instantly drawn there. It’s almost sepia toned and even the sky is tepidly colored. Always one for balance, I have to even out all my colorful pieces lately. I have to practice depth in my landscapes with this one.

    Above the Clouds

    Some colors run deep, skin deep. I’m reminded of the soul of pigment; How color makes me feel when I interpret it. The richness and texture of tone are singing a duet, I just need to let it flow.

    Chromatic Prophet

    I love working with people of color. The way skin reacts differently with each shade, it’s exciting. Listening to Bob Marley and seeing his colors before me like an aura.

    Luminary Soul

    Dang it’s getting cold. The shades of the season are fading, but refusing to leave. A snowstorm hits half the country and I’m in awe of its power and beauty. I’m missing the easel. Maybe someday I’ll be able to sit for long enough again.

    Sculpted Snow

    So many fun requests come in, but I get one for an interpretation of the goddess Ananke that steals my attention. Responsible for weaving the essential, the inevitable. She has no mercy, nor will. Simply puts fate into play. I’m asked to include a grid. Not bad, but it’s not quite it. The grid needs to be more organic.

    Astral Loom

    She is the weaver. Between her fingers, necessity converges with compulsion. Reminds me of a certain kind of neurodivergence. My ADHD brain went a little bit overboard, but it’s well received by the one who requested it.

    Cartographer’s Threads

    Flourishing with prosperous color, there’s a blossom to be caught and I’ve got a mason jar in my hands. Life is staggeringly splendid to behold- blushing and smiling with refrain.