*twitch*



That's my eye. Twitching.
9 FUCKING HOURS OF WORK, PEOPLE!


Better thank dad for helping me out with pasting the paper on the carton, though. Glue hates me a lot.
I'm fifteen years of age. So. Yes. I claim it as my damn right to beg daddy for help.


Both the wings are pastel + charcoal drawn. I adore them. A lot.
...I actually adore the overall work a lot.


Please tell me you like this. I haven't had a lot of compliments on this so far, usually my parents nearly shoot me with them, they just didn't today. Is it bad? Is it?

ANYWAY.



and I might get collaborating on something of which I'm not exactly certain yet. Should be a story, with a girl who talks to bugs. Bugs. Butterflies.
She feels love, or something, though. Which is wickedly awesome.
So... I sort of made this to promote that future a little.

LOOK FORWARD TO IT. OR I WILL KILL YOU.

How I made this:

First...
I drew each wing on seperate pieces of paper, as well as the bug itself. Charcoal for the main lines, then a whole lot of pastel to get it coloured.
Then...
I cut them all free from their borders - the paper - and used a hell lot of glue to get them on some large carton. Dad helped me here, nearly got me a heart attack. He kept on putting his hands all over the pastel! D8
THEN...
I got some indian ink up to draw the new borders - of which the wings obviously break free.

Nine hours, people. Okay, breaks included, but, STILL.



Everything has borders these days. Limits. Stopping us from doing what we really want to do.
You have to be a man and a woman to be married, you must pay taxes or you will go to prison, you may not refuse to listen to the law or you risk your life.
Even art has borders sometimes.
Even deviantArt has them.

But we are artists. We never stay within the borders.
Trespass those borders, and you'll realize what it's really like to create.


...


(the red piece of meat down the left lower corner is my toe. Ehh. Sorry. )