Magdollen

This generally abandoned place is mostly for my (quick) art and some occasional written matter. I like drawing, cheap trinkets, and the smell of old books.

-Doctor…? -RUN!
In which she learns she can walk under sunlight no more.
She would kill you, if she had to, for that is what they pay her for. In the unfortunate event of an encounter with her, it would comfort you to know she spends her earnings only on the most luxurious of cheese.
Oh, fuck.
The word ‘calla’ is Greek for magnificent beauty. Apparently. So here are some tits to go with that.
Quick watercolor for today’s demo in class.

As a child, I’d read about epic adventures, tragic poems and love so true that it could burn cities with its power.

Solitary as I was, I thought that kind of love was some sort of obtainable superpower that— should I be deemed worthy of receiving it— would make my life whole. And in that understanding, it was obvious to me that I had to have pain, uncertainty, fear, occasional jealousy… and while those things didn’t define what love actually was (and they still don’t), I thought that was what made love beautiful. So real, so scary. Seizing your insides with full rawness.

Like Marianne Dashwood, I thought to myself: “Pathetic? To die for love? How can you say so? What could be more glorious?”, and I truly believed it. I still do.

Time went by, I grew older and started my very own ventures at loving people. I met pain up close, I felt raging jealousy take over me, I drifted away in that big ashen ocean of uncertainty and I never truly stopped being afraid. My heart hasn’t changed much, despite its (un)fortunate encounters, and I still place great value on experiencing the coarse, the profound.

But, I think, what makes love so magnificent is not the suffering, not the bruises, not the intense heart-wrenching sting inside of us. It’s our own willingness to go through that, our will to continue even when we know all those things are—and will be— involved.

It is a beautiful leap of, not faith, but awareness.
A black pit into which we dive because at the end of it, there is someone we care for.
And, in earnest stubbornness, we jump anyway.

She sits by the window, pale as the underside of a silverleaf

and stares through the glass to the memories, in ruins

the unkind promises that never were

has she ever been happy?

every day, she wonders

Day in and day out

consigning it all to oblivion

but remembering everyone

rising from her burial ground

Reminiscing about autumns now past

how she felt when smelling baked bread for the first time

how that kitten made her feel weak in new places

how every detail of life fascinated her

moved her to tears

each time, deeply and inevitably, she’d die

again and again

in a constant suicide

Such a tiny and frail little death

It is an odd thing, she mused

that despair could stun her

that pain should be for the living

for her, full of blood still

Any and all times her hopes were dashed

 it was always an astonishment

Unfailingly, her heart was touched

and the woes, the hot rotted pains

those fleeting moments of bare translucency 

they remind her she’s been here before

this revolution of blossom and gloom

of feelings and honest tempests

 is her life

Through her open wound she is reborn

for as long as she throbs in anguish

she stops at nothing

unconquerable.

——-

This is how beautiful you are to me, didistarfish <3 Had you not been born, I would have drowned and withered a long time ago. Your tenderness has enabled me to feel and to love further than I ever thought possible (or healthy). Without knowing it, you have given me the best gift of all: you walk with me as we both learn how to love ourselves, thus allowing us to truly love others and to accept that we can be loved. I love you.

Random character generator: The weak, brave occultist.
Another quick demo for ze shinies.

How dare you come now, after you trampled on my heart? How dare you try to redeem yourself through my newfound joy? Like somehow your taking part in my life now would rub away your wrongdoings; would paint your mask with my bliss and turn to vapor what has been done.

I may not be fearless, but you were wrong. I’ll keep this safe, and hiss and bite.

This is my happiness, and you shan’t come near it. 

Another quickie. This one taught the use of gouache for shinies.
Small demo I drew to teach blending of chartpak markers.

There are many things I cannot do. So many things that I am not.
Perhaps not too brave, not too bold, not too sane.

But all of that fades away with your smile, with the memory of those cream cheese cookies, those dark old clothes and my short hair in that very first picture we shared.

Not that I ever doubted the existence of this kind of love. Our undying connection and the outflowing concern for one another that pours out naturally and both ways… but, when you think about it, truly consider it: it’s kind of impossible; the stuff of books, of dreams. A tiny little pearl, hidden away in the depths of the ocean, unreachable.

But it’s not, it is here. In my chest, in my mind, in my tears, in the small comforts that remind me of you, each day. That smell of warm tea, the softness of yarn as I pull my fingers through it, this yearning to hear you laugh again.

On this day, when you came to this world, I was somewhere else. But I like to entertain the thought that, just as you were crying your lungs out for breath, maybe I cried too, in my crib far, far away. Maybe from that moment on, we were tied to each other, twins awaiting to happen.

My sister, whom I hold so dear, soul of my soul. A calm haven, a heart soother. Today I give you my gratitude. You have read the fine print within me, the whole of my pages, and without second thought embraced me. You’ve made me braver, aware that there are things we can and must fight for. A harbor where I can run aground on when I’m weary from battle.

Thank you. Everlastingly thank you. For your love without reserve. For your unrestricted words, your all out tenderness. For taking care of this heart, not with fear, but with kindness. Thank you, evermore, didistarfish <3

The Rito that never was. She was going to be an OC for a tabletop Zelda rpg. Still think she&#8217;s cute &lt;3

The Rito that never was. She was going to be an OC for a tabletop Zelda rpg. Still think she’s cute <3