Stone can melt.
Fear can be overwhelmed.
Illustration Notes: Felt Pen, Illustrator, Photoshop, Pen Tablet.
Things we think we know about a person, relative to what we think we know about ourselves, relative to what we think we know about the world.
Ghosts, judging ghosts, judging dust.
So I stopped trying to answer their questions.
Even better, I stopped trying to explain myself to myself.
I built my own monolith in a field.
Mountains from dirt.
Incredible for no reason, and to no person.
Winds in any direction still lift, after all.
So tell me, what’s the difference.
Better yet, don’t.
It can be a little unnerving when the walls you spent so long building up get washed away in a high tide. Like you’re building with sand, and making no progress.
It’s no matter though, you always knew the walls were built out of sand.
You don’t find comfort in thinking they’ll protect you from getting washed away.
You find comfort in knowing they can be rebuilt.
Image note: This is a re-work of my previous post ‘Tracheal’ in preparation for its addition to the Super National store on Society6. All new colors and textures in 6k resolution for those who enjoy scrutiny! I actually ended up liking it a lot more than the original.
Super Nervous Cow is–for the first time–actually selling something! Say hello to my new store ‘Super National’ on Society6 and get free shipping with this unique link: http://bit.ly/2avo2x3 (Limited time).
There are currently three prints available for a limited run in various customized formats. I’ve started illustrating in nearly 6000 x 6000 px to make sure the larger prints and small prints alike are crisp as morning dew.
I hope you enjoy! Look here for extras and all the usual art of course.
I’m sorry, I know I’m not making enough money to keep the wolves fed. I know my finances are kind of a mess, I feel bad about that. Just understand that I had–have no choice. I have to wake up every day and do what I love, I just don’t see any way around that. I can never forget that I only have one life, and that I can’t waste it. It’s something inside me that I can’t ignore.
Don’t worry, the money will come. I’ve been preparing this stage for a while now. I just had to make sure I got it right. I can’t end up like Robin Williams, hung out in a mansion. I had to keep following that voice, no matter what, in spite of everything. I had to do what I knew would make me happy, no matter how ignorantly idealistic.
But the tickets are on sale for the show now. Spotlights are beaming into the low fog. I’m ready to show the world what I can do. Ready to leave their doubts behind me.
You know, in High School, there was this kid I hated more than anyone. I remember suppressing the urge to throw a punch once or twice. It kept me up at night.
But for the life of me.. I can’t remember his face.
So I wonder,
What was all the hate for…
So don’t ask me if I’m doing okay.
Ask me if I’m looking forward to waking up tomorrow.
The answer is yes.
Some nights I want to disappear, but my body won’t let me.
I’m a physical object, and not a picky one. Always harvesting energy.
The flesh of a living creature.
I’ve made choices in life, good and bad. It hasn’t.
The machine simply continues.
Illustration notes: “Stomach” Part 3 in the organ series. I’ve actually had to make two of each illustration in this series because of Adobe Illustrator issues resulting in lost work. Each illustration seems to be becoming less abstract unintentionally.
My heart is broken, in the most literal sense. A recent doctor visit revealed that I have extra thick heart muscles on my lower left. Nobody seemed to know what that meant, so they set me up with a cardiologist, told me to return my Daily Burn: Extreme Core Heart Blaster DVD, and sent me on my way.
On the bright side I’m otherwise extremely healthy! Pending my sudden and dramatically acted death of course. I think dying from a broken heart is a pretty Greek god sort of way to go out though don’t you?
Hope you enjoyed the illustration. Feel free to share your own interpretation. I’ve heard a few.