picking up the pencils again

can anyone direct me to a site/online bookstore where I can order a copy of Art Of Color and Design by Mailtand E. Graves? I went on a google wormhole last night looking for a pdf or ebook or anything not on amazon and I emerged at 3:30AM tired and unsuccessful

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9/5/20

yoooo i found it!

https://www.echopointbooks.com/art/the-art-of-color-and-design

my bloody cuticles, distended belly. threaded blonde fringe following espresso curls, a lack of sunlight. rumpled bedsheets on a dipping mattress. the vicadin prescription on the top of desk clutter. cat piss aura carpeting, dog hair and spilled coffee grounds. my bloody cuticles, stinging and peeling. my bloody cuticles, forgotten in a tide of tiny tedious pains. broken toothpicks and a cat in the dresser drawer. glass covered art on the walls

“a damning self portrait, fall 2018″ 9/25/18

a train rumbles through the valley at 3am, puts me in mind of witches. i want to hold my lover in my arms, and whisper escapist dreams.

“the desert is calling me, darling. Lets flee from the ice together.” i am lonely for a man 4 towns away from me. its a closer distance than i’m used to. He’s sleeping. “you would never be stuck siding snowside again.” He shifts, dreaming. His valley will have a training echoing too.

Limestone Synergies 8/3/18

rust in your mouth rust in your mouth rust in your mouth

my teeth

steeltrap;chipping

catongued 3/15/18

im a vessel for patterns

Library Gestures, 2-9-18

Sketch Diary Day 1: I drew some practice gestures at the library today before work

the woman running her stall at the fair grounds is watching me closely as i slide one of her gowns- bright red with a bold black hibiscus print on the hem- over my clothes. Maybe its the way i look at myself in the mirror, or the way i stand, or the way i touch the thin fabric; she seems to pick up on something. " it's good! Why don't you wear dresses?" She asks, pleasure and curiosity coloring her accented english. The reflection girl- the reflection woman half smiles, uncertain. I don't know, i don't know i don't know- I buy the dress.

‘Missouri, 2k15, Summer’ 7/15/17

watercolor pencil self portrait practice; 6/9/17

my hair is so dark it looks black in artificial light. I’m twenty two, i stay inside more often than i should. My lover kisses me everywhere he can. when i cover a cough, a dream bloodies my hand, i wake up too late in the day again. an unopened box of condoms- trojans- sit on my childhood bedroom dresser because my lover is an optimist. He doesn’t force me, but lately he whines. Whenever i ask him to stop he backs away and rubs my sides, my shoulders. Our silences worry me more than the sex or lack thereof. I’m not saving myself, i’m just a coward overwhelmed. “It’s going to hurt, a little, you know.” “i know.” In dark movie theaters, in his bedroom, in my bedroom, outside work, in the snow, we kiss, kiss, kiss. He tells me he loves me and holds my head still to watch my eyes. We dont talk about much beyond our lives and i fret. My hands are red. The man with the too long teeth walks with me down a nondescript corridor, wont meet my gaze. He and my lover both have yellow hair, but my lover is losing his and the man with the too long teeth ties his back. “You’ve got to keep trying,” he says walking, looking at the wall. “You’ve got a life to live.” I pick up a pen, i wipe away the red.

Musings on the End of the Calander Year 1/10/18

I love these!!! Will you be updating soon?

Thanks anon! I’ve had pretty bad writers block for a while now, but i’m always scribbling a little bit here and there. Nothing I’m satisfied with at the moment, though. So, long answer short… maybe? I might be posting some art practice work in the mean time, to fill the void.

rip i’ve been reblogging shit to the wrong blog by accident; sorry peeps

i could delete them, but i am...lazy

Beefcake Swimwear is finally available to buy outside of the kickstarter! I would like one in each style, please.

*feels nothing* minimalism

a family from nothing blooms into an orchard, but every so often we must drop rotten fruit. i guess i'm our cider. We all have to earn a living. I'm twenty, winter weighs heavy on my heart. I bleach my hair blonde, throw myself sidelong into schooling, trying to outrun my imminent collapse (she catches up to me midsummer). mama reaches for a bruised up baby crawling with wasps. I smoke more than i eat. My friend elopes, my frown creases the photos of the ceremony. I'm twenty-two, I have lost the baby fat on my hands.

"Eve Flees Eden" 8-11-17