Tomes Technique

Painterly visions in digital form.

Tag: Portraits

  • 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.

  • Awareness

    Awareness

    Perception is only part of the story being spun. I’m still stuck on being told I don’t make enough happy expressions. While the news every day brings more reasons to feel lament. To counter this, I’m imagining a time nearly forgotten. When families gathered around the fire for the warmth of stories and the comfort of music. A time that was hard, but beautiful in its simplicity. What was important was a group effort and everyone took pride in their different skills that made it all possible. I like imagining my ancestors like this.

    Seasons Past

    Halloween! I flipping love Halloween! This is the one day I look forward to every year. Put on another haunted house! I’m ecstatic about the feedback. Received a bravo and tucked the screams of adult men into my pocket. Pushing buttons is kind of my thing. Exploring the boundaries and limits of society gets me in a rabbit hole.

    Why So Serious?

    Still feeling a little batty, I think of the heroes we lift in literature only. The powers we allow to be versus the how we think they ought to be. Maybe I just want to be Cat Woman for Halloween again. I loved Michelle Pfeiffer for bringing her to life. Admiration for Tim Burton’s understanding of how to make her human.

    Unspoken Pact

    Binge watching shows from the 90’s, so of course that means I’m Star Trekkin’ across the universe. I don’t remember it being such a soap opera for nerds. Picard mentions a few times that humans have self control and therefore they don’t need locks or personal safeguards. The Federation was woke AF. I bet they all understand how birthday cake works. I know the show was considered a progressive outreach, but women are really not represented well. Androids bring current events to my mind once again. Companies can be people (Citizens United v. FEC). AI can be a paid actor. Where does humanity live?

    Synaptic Soul

    Turkey day is being planned and I’m wondering if we can ever achieve all the Federation has written. I can’t help noticing the future is scant on tech. Are the Borg merely just AI taking over, terminating humanity? Is there a virus in the code?

    The Last Supper Singularity

    Mom’s coming home. Everything returns to her arms. She’ll fix everything with a little time. We are the virus. Concentrating on the forest, the trees forming her spine and her umbrella, the copse canopy. Upon her feet, shrines built to celebrate her radiance. In her hands, life itself. I’m feeling her presence and once again, I follow her call.

    Kukunochi

    The world’s events come crashing into my head again. Mindfulness, just enjoying the state of existence, it’s a real talent. Kudos to those who have this skill. Political leaders as unmovable mountains pop into my head. Terraforming is a thing and I wouldn’t put it past the Cheeto in Charge. His friends are foaming at the mouth to remake maps.

    Mt. Bibi

    Power is a funny thing. Not funny “haha”, but funny “oof”. I’ve always seen power as something you obtain with knowledge, but my ecosystem is proving me wrong daily. I’m ruminating over how much has been lost over the centuries. I am such a Ravenclaw. My Slytherin side is disappointed.

    Read or Die the Painting

    I’m attentive to my surroundings, those who came before, and those who will come after. This is all for them, those who pass on life through their energy. May it spark the next chapter in this never ending story.

  • Down with the Sickness

    Down with the Sickness

    I’ve come down with some kind of infection and I’m having nitemares again; a lovely combination of delirium and cold sweats. On some levels, I really think they’re wrong about time healing the mental wound. It’s only more jarring when it comes around again.

    The Weight of Silence

    Time helps to blur the edges, but is that really healing? I’ve grown from my experiences, but that’s not the same either. In my weakened state, I contemplate god again. I’m looking forward to the transition of this energy.

    Corvus

    I’m wishing for simple things again, but I’m also still feeling handsy. How much information do we gain with hands that goes beyond demographics and how does that translate?

    Veiled Promise

    There’s a static in the air again. This year’s haunted house is just days away. The promise of grown men screaming and jumping lifts my spirits. This must be what masculinity feels like.

    Holding on to what is dead

    I keep coming back to Japan. It’s a theme I quite enjoy. The grass is greener on the other side. The possibilities are infinite.

    WinterMint

    Romanticizing a bit, I suppose, but I’ve been obsessed with Japan and social sciences since childhood. Those early influences of culture were shockingly exciting for my young eyes. Anime changed my life.

    Wet Embrace

    Coming out of the contagious haze, there’s a stillness that is to be enjoyed; a kind of clarity felt after a hallucinogenic experience that somehow seems therapeutic.

  • Cheeky (Bonus Edition)

    Cheeky (Bonus Edition)

    I’m feeling boldly randy with this month’s cycle. What started as attempts to practice hands (Curses! Why are they all sausages?!) has become something else. Not to be plain, I want to play with how to express emotion with the hands. I’m always looking for something I’ve never tried. Just to add some extra difficulty, I decide to work on musculature alongside the difficulty of meat fingers.

    Hold Me Now

    Maybe it was bound to happen. Muscles, hands, and mood…  “Percussion. Strings. Winds. Words.”

    Fixation

    I have no bias. I’m a lover of loving love.

    The Kiss

    Or maybe I am bias in the way that I like to explore boundaries. Could it be a defense mechanism or an anxious need for validation? Perhaps it’s just way to deal with boredom.

    Get Over Here

    I’m always working out for ways to play with perspective. Not simply angles, I’m playing with the mind’s interpretation.

    Crimson and Clover

    I’ve got a bee in my bonnet. I might have a thing for mouths. Maybe it’s because I’m mighty mouthy. Blame the southerner in me.

    Remnants of a Dream

    Somewhere I read that Hugh Hefner likes to use the hint of a man being present to create a scene. I’m pondering if it’s to let the male viewer insert themselves into the role. For my doodles, it’s a caught glance, a knowing that remains unspoken.

    Throuple

    I’m in on the secret. I know the handshake and they just put on my jam.

    Sexual Tension

    It’s a smut phase and I’m not sorry about it.

  • Resonance

    Resonance

    Got another game fandom request. This time for a Witcher up against a monster. I had free rein on this one. I’m in the mood for some nitemare fuel for Halloween. There’s a quiet hum in the air, the sound of excitement. It rumbles the windows.

    Hope You Have Backup

    New request, new lyrics. I can’t help myself.

    The air is heavy with unseen things, 

    A melody the silence sings.

    A fleeting shape, a fragile trace, 

    Of something more, a hidden space.

    Lost at Sea

    Let it go… let it be… 

    Endless tide, endlessly.

    Brave, but wise; she’s grown into her mother’s face. Not simply a princess, but a rebel who welcomes the arrival of the oncoming storm. Just the knowing.

    Near, Far Wherever You Are

    I’m mentally traveling again. Running my hands over the leaves, feeling the warmth of the sun on my back. Listening to the rhythmic whispering rush of water that seems to settle the air and invite quiet contemplation. Taking in the moment like a good hug from an old friend.

    Inspired by Koshu

    Juicy Secret

    The world projects vibrations and reverberations that sing to me. I listen closely and hear its siren call.

    I chase ghosts down every block I cross
    Halfway found and halfway lost
    Every turn just brings me back to you
    Like the echo of a song I can’t undo

    Hold On

    A strange request comes in, so I’m on it. History whispering into an ear, guiding, “press the ancient button and reset humanity”. I’m feeling baroque.

    Echoes are heavy, a ghost in the sound,

    Didn’t chase shadows, I built solid ground

    Four walls echo, the tempo low.

    The past in the bass, and it won’t let go.

    Hit the Button

    I purchased a few pieces from the miniature master book series secondhand for the joy of a mini book of art. I need a Barbie da Vinci in my life. Take that, coffee table books that no one reads. You don’t fit in my palm. Flipping through one, I feel a connection to Rembrandt’s pieces inspired by Caravaggio. I find myself recreating a story within its pages. I decide to combine two masterpieces to make one singular parable, the tale of three fathers; combining Old Testament with New Testament. 

    From the fear of god to the mercy of god. 

    “This — forgiveness — is the true sacrifice I require.”

    Inspired by Rembrandt

    Mercy Stays the Hand

    It’s time for more surrealism to balance out all this seriousness. I love that one line from Pink Floyd, “We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year” and get a request for something along these lines. I have to do it. I start to think about the repercussions and imagine the fish looking in on the bowl. Floating in space, do they fret about the stars or those who inhabit them?

    Celestial Cage

    The currents are ringing, the frequency ebbing. Encapsulated in our own fragile container, a tiny drop in an endless swell.

    Flicker of memory, caught on the screen,

    Looped in a haze like a half-lit dream.

    Static is steady, the low-end drone,

    Sink in the rhythm, I’m finally grown.

  • Traveling

    Traveling

    With all the ads lately, I’ve been thinking about the places I’d like to see; the vibes I could interact with.

    Nite Light

    I like old spaces and contemplative places. It’s distressing to see what’s happening in the world, the cultures being lost and their communities being destroyed.

    Матусі (Hold the Wall)

    I could get lost anywhere, but I find myself wanting a watery surrounding.

    Foraging

    I have an affinity* with lilies. *May be a birth month bias. They just speak to me.

    Kero Kero

    While derping on the internet, I came across an artist I enjoyed. One piece* inspired me. Unfortunately, I noticed the content was created using AI tools. I make every stroke of my doodles with my hand and have qualms with AI in most situations.

    *Image removed by poster.

    Snow Can Wait

    New request for more flowers, specifically the mourning flower from a game. I have free rein with this one.

    Sighing Sun

    There’s so much history in the world. Looking at the homes, I have to look at the locations too. Inspired by Kinkaku-ji, The Golden Temple in Kyoto. Perhaps Kinki is the region for me.

    The Mirror Temple

    I daydream in seasons. Maybe this year, I’ll see the changing of the leaves. Inspired by Islington.

    spring will come but autumn falls

    With Autumn’s arrival comes my favorite time of the year. Time for All Hallow’s Eve and the Black Parade to march. What devious pranks will this year’s haunted house hold? I’m stoked beyond words that it’s officially pumpkin time.

    bone-appétit

    I’m having an animals phase sneak its way in. I came out to a black cat on my porch that I didn’t recognize. He had no problems with being petted, thereby fulfilling my dopamine need for the day and inspiring me to make an ”undercover spy” for the neighborhood cats.

    Secret Agent

    In my imagination, I travel the endless universe. Time means nothing, never will again.

    For this one, I wanted to renovate a practice piece I did when I was a fledgling oil painter. Inspired by Henry Alexander Bowler

    Eulogy Written in a Country Graveyard

    The journey still unfolds.