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I dreamt of you again.

It hurt real bad when I woke up and knew it was a dream.  I wanted to stay in it a little while longer.

I cursed and rolled out of my bed. I had work to do, and was sure that the early morning grogginess would vanish in the next fifteen minutes when I was done taking a quick shower and brushing my teeth. It would at least vanish when I drank the coffee.

But like a burning up paper the flame only got worse. Like a stained white sheet the dream bled on everything and made things worse. I forgot a lot of the other details, but the sight of you with that sunflower tucked in your hair, smiling so happily from beyond the field of green grass on a cool windy day  - It kept on looping in my head. You looked so happy and beautiful,

Who puts sunflowers in their hair anyways? Wasn't it supposed to be roses or something? It seems absurd. And I'm not nearly old enough to be reminiscing like this.

Going to work I thought the coldness of commuting humans would mute the sight of you, but it only made it worse. The abject loneliness I feel just made me hold onto that dream some more. I huddled against its heat, even though it's stupidly painful to do so.

You died. You died and are never coming back. And everyone has a sob story and grand things to say about death, but it's actually a more common experience than you'd think. I haven't thought about you in years, really, and while I'll always say the three crazy years together were the best, I stopped putting you up on a pedestal and pining after a love that could match that one. You weren't perfect. You were only human, not an angel.

But damn, you were close.

I ended up going through work in a blur. Real life failed to slap me in the face. The drone of the office did nothing to erase the dream. The small talk did nothing. The stress did nothing. If anything it only made the picture clearer.

Why in the world did I dream of you like that? You loved hoodies like they were your own skin, so this picture of you in a flowing dress with a flower in your hair doesn’t match up. You did go on a holiday once in those Scottish highlands with nothing but fields and lakes and rivers, but in that picture you had an oversized coat and were pouting about me not being there.

This is stupid. This is stupid but I'm off work right now and getting two trains to where you are. To that little small town that's locked in time and never seems to move with the rest of the world. I know a few people here, and we're not on bad terms or anything, but I won't visit them. Your family would probably be distant, at best. I know your mother would've been warmer, but she's gone too, right?

You're buried right next to her.

I never understood why graveyards looked so solemn. Everyone can recognize them from anywhere, whether the graves are marked with crossed sticks or with granite slabs inscribed with Latin epitaphs. I don't believe in much, so it's even stranger to have such strong feelings evoked in me. I shuffle through the place slowly, reading off names and dates until I find your plot.

Beloved daughter and sister - "I'll just be out for a while"

She loved saying that when talking about dying. And everyone believed it at face value. It didn't sound grim or naive when she said it.

I put a punch of dried out sunflowers at her grave. They still have their yellow, but they're really, really out of season. Brittle.

And I stand up and look at the granite. Time flies indeed. That's a saying that'll never stop being true, I think, but I have to tell it to myself because I forget.

I think that maybe I'm ready to let go now. The dream is finally fading away. Whatever whim this was, it's passing.

I'm going to feel real bad, but I'm okay.

I try to walk away. I really do, but my feet seem to be rooted to the spot.

I look at them with a frown,

"What?" I chuckle, "Don't want to go huh?"

I shuffle my right foot, but it feels like lead.

I shuffle the other and it’s better, but both legs are heavy.

I'm a man, dammit. What am I even doing visiting the grave of some girl that I used to know? Some girl who turned my life around? Just some girl I really fell for.

I don't make it that far before I'm bawling. Nose running and all. I don't care if anyone hears me. No one does.

A song comes to mind all of the sudden. One of our favourites. You know the one. It starts with a wistful sound like a ship horn before the drums and pianos come along. Electronic. You used to beat box the drums when they came along and I mimed playing the piano and hitting the snares. We made such stupid faces to it.

I miss you.

Oh God, I miss you.

I've got to go now. I have no idea what brought this on, but I'm glad I came along you know?

I'm glad I got to know you.
I live like a dead man
When the morning comes and it's time to walk on the asphalt
Time to put on the face and get work done
All the ideals float away to Jupiter and beyond

It's beyond frustrating
It makes me hate myself in the silence even though I know what I want to undertake
but that's what I call the cage
the cage of the soul

I wouldn't mind if I were able to be bad or good
be anything

anything more than the inability to be what I want

the champion of the safe zone

the champion of unachieved dreams
trickle me a pond
dare to dream nothing
dream only things that are...
only a little happy

underestimate the imagery
and pacify the metaphors
because it just ain't cool to be in the mood

all i know and all i care
is that i felt and feel things more than 'here or there'

things beyond my miniscule scope of life
things beyond the pain and strife
things like

seeing a smile and knowing there's an afterlife

because you sure as hell felt so happy you could fly
right through those pearly gates

and the worst thing is
it doesn't go away
that knowledge, that feel

even in moments of pain
when you see a frown on that persons' face

it's almost palpable...

Oh, how easy the thoughts come:
"I'd cry for you, I'd die for you."
...and how creepy they sound said out loud

but how fulfilling they are to experience

requited or not, it's what makes you living
they are the SI units for your soul
for my soul

Oh God, I have loved

I have fallen in love before

and it hurts and heals
like cold water pouring down a hill

If North fled to hell

If the Z axis dissapeared

Even if my shadow were to abandon me
the very ground shrink from the soles of my shoes-

With these feelings

I can find myself
One day when the bell rings
it'll be the happiest day of your life
it'll be at a nice old church
small and quiant
everyone will be dressed
so well

One day when the bell rings
it'll be the last day of her life
they're wrinkles around your ring finger
waves of memories
of time so inexorable
and spent so well
Living in a bubble is painful
We've all got to look out for number one - it's hard wired into our brains
No one else has to be in the drivers seat but you
And there's no reason to harm yourself for the sake of the unthankful
not if you don't to

But there's something soothing about being in it together
about listening to the fellow soul in a cage of flesh and bone
about small gestures and shared laughs
and tears

Surely there are those who can live in the mountains
and feel fulfilled by the wonder of the world around them

But there is something unchallengeable - Something sure, strong and real
in love shared amongst eachother


Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
Nothing to see here
So this took me a very long time, but I finally, finally, finally finished going through Figure Drawing For All It's Worth by Andrew Loomis.

I was going to go at it a page a day, so that I should be finished in December, but it was starting to take up too much time so I made a mad rush throughout the weekend. Phew

Loomis is pretty verbiose, so reading his chats was not really a priority of mine. His excercises explain well enough what he aims to teach, so I went at them.

I can't say I've made any particular leaps or bounds in terms of skill, because there is the missing fundamental skill to draw good circles, straight lines and visualize 3d space. However, I have learnt some pretty helpful tips and what I hope is a reliable worth ethic I guess?

This, however, definitely marks one of the last times I'm consuming a whole book for art.

The 'Gospel of The Anatomy Arists' Always recommends Loomis along with Hogarth and a bunch of others as the 'go-to' books to improve your art skill. Loomis is great and I respect the man, but these old books of tutorials are just not enough. I was drowning more often than not in my lack of more basic drawing knowledge and skill. Though that may be my fault, I feel that people should study what they aim to improve, and focus on actually having mileage in drawing on their own terms.

After going through 197 pages, I have no actual project to show for this - Just a super long journal post and yeah, a small sense of achievement, but otherwise nothing I can say belongs to me.

If you want to learn something, go look for what you want to learn on your own. And when the jungle of endless information and tutorials and recommendations becomes too much, draw from around you. Draw your hand, your feet. Draw your favourite character and look up a reference here or there. The most important thing is that you draw, and you draw with your own motivations and drive.

Always ask and look out for lessons, but know that the most important factor to improvement is your own hands and drive, and no magic pill of a book will help - so far as I can say now. And try as much as you can to have fun along the way. There's enough stress along the way without adding to the mix.

I guess I became as chatty as Loomis. The man really rubs off on you.

In any case. Wall of images alert. Here is the result of my journeys.

And so it started. Wonky lines and all.
In order to definitely be able to finish the book later down the line, I had to accept that I wouldn't become a pro at the end of it all. I couldn't shade everything as Loomis did, and I stuck with using a pen where he recommended different materials.
All I can say is that... I made it

  • Listening to: Colour Fade by Funeral Suits
  • Reading: Winnetou by Karl May
  • Watching: Deustchland 83
  • Drinking: Coffee

Journal History

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wearartandliterature Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2016  New Deviant Professional Writer
Thanks for faving "positive thinking"
legomaestro Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
MissJudgedGirl Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fave! :meow:
legomaestro Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
cherrman Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2016
Thank you for the fave
legomaestro Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Shadonut Featured By Owner Sep 12, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
omg gasp!! you changed your icon~!!
legomaestro Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Haha yeah I did. I had the other one for a while. Who's the character in yours?
Shadonut Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
That's suntiger, a gel Fox that @astralalthenium gave to me <3 (hope I spelled their username correctly)
legomaestro Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
A gel fox? Interesting species name
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