Artwork: Scorpio

Concept: For Scorpio, I wanted to depict determination, or heart. It was done in pen and then colored with watercolors and a little bit of white oils. I overlay-ed the text in the same way as the first two (found here:). This one also has a superimposed picture of a radio-tower that I shaped with an eraser to get the abstract effect.

Size: 7×10.2 in. on Watercolor paper.


Thoughts: I really liked how this one turned out. I spent significantly more time on line-work and composition planning than I did for the first two. The model is a loose depiction of Senua, a character from a recent video game: Senua’s sacrifice.

Artwork in Progress + Steps


I recorded many of the steps along the way: 

Outline work:



Minor shading and reinforcing line-work:



Watercolor overlay and deeper mid-tone base:


Water-color detailing (Bad Picture, the light is reflecting off the heavier painted areas):


Heavy oil and pen shading+detailing in addition to skin shading and texture work (Current Progress):


It has taken on a bit of a surreal vibe with the self-harm symbolism being echoed through the blood-tinged smoke, the wrist, the smoking, and standing in front of a moving train. I like how dark I’ve managed to get the shadows as well. I need to go in with some white and highlight a few things, but I want to get basic mid-ranges handled on the train and grass before I do so.

The scene itself is from Finding Happy: Chapter 11, which hasn’t been released yet. I need to spend a week or two re-editing the flow of part one as a whole, at which time I’ll start releasing more hard-content. Another issues with these pictures is I couldn’t submit .Tif files, which really hurts the shadows in the current drawing, especially the hair. I’m going to try to figure out which compression file works best for it in future uploads, but I just wanted an update on artwork put out since it’s been almost a week and a half.



Blood-Hound (Poem + Drawing)

Blood Hound   —–>PDF with proper formatting, manuscript below. 



I’ll be your sick-bird,
you be my blood-hound,
My hearts in your mouth,
Breaking neck spins round.
You’re not the one to blame,
You see; I can’t complain,
This is all you’ve known.
Blackened bloody mold,
Just doing what you’re told.

Your love was a warhead,
A straight time-bomb,
You taught me this lesson,
That I ain’t so strong.
Take your pound of flesh,
Don’t matter if it’s right,
Hit me while I’m fresh,
You know I’ll never fight,
As long as you let me,
Love you more than this life.

So here’s to that jaw,
Tightening ‘round me,
I’m just your dead-bird,
So be my blood-hound,
‘Cause baby,
You’re the one with teeth.
And all I am is meat.


7×11 cut watercolor, Pen and marker. Edited fox

The One thing I got Right (Poem)

The One thing I got Right
You lay there and seem,
A goddess to me.
Vibrant deadly stream,
the painting from my dreams,
fire-born Seraphim.

You are the one mistake,
I won’t break,
because kissing you,
Brings me closer to heaven.

And the way your breath,
Ignites winter’s air,
Could save me from death.
This time that we share,
the truths we lay bare,
All let me know,

You are the one thing,
I did right,
the only mistake,
I’ll never take,
For granted.

we’re measured in heart-beats,
as we start flying away.
My love,
piece me together,
and tell me to stay.
I don’t know what’s holy,
but baby we are.
Forget the darkness,
that pain of yesterday,
let me sew you together,
as love lights the way.

Stay here with me, and there’s nothing we can’t create.
Tell me you need me, because that’s all that I say,
Your love is like heaven, so show me the way.

Frozen Flowers (Drawing in steps+Poem)

Frozen Flowers
You brought me flowers,
The beautiful things.
Those late-night hours,
Your touch made me sing.
Those flowers withered,
Hanging from our string.
A fractured blizzard hides,
Our now-forgotten rings.
That now you are gone,
And our son’s almost three,
There is no-one out there left,
Who will ever love me.
On the Mantle,
Those same flowers rest,
Let me light the candles,
I’ll try to forget your death.
Long dead roses,
Till-death they’ll remain.
Their blackened fruit imposes,
A hurt I can’t abstain.
Cause’ baby I’m numb.
Every time I see them,
I feel the warmth of your skin.

A momentary bliss,
That helps me reminisce,
Your soft and gentle kiss.



Cover-Art note: 8×11 ultra-white watercolor stock, blue colored pencil and black ink.



Daily Blog 9/1/17

Start at the beginning:

Previous chapter:


Chapter five brings us back to Silgan, and the main plot. He and Alex arrive at their “workplace” and are briefed on today’s “client”.

*Explicit language warning  



Present Day

Silgan secured his briefcase, careful not to knock Alex’s tool box off of the seat, and opened the door. Immediately, the below-zero November air assaulted his eyes, nose, and hand. I love that sting, the numbing chill. Stepping out, he observed his surroundings, hearing Alex’s door open behind him. In front of him, an unmarked building that looked to be a re-purposed lumber mill, abandoned and ominous. Looks like a God-damn horror house. Various tools, covered in supple, fresh, snow were scattered about the floor.

As Silgan turned to close his door, Alex mused, “Gotta love these Rhode Island winters! Makes a man remember what life feels like, don’t it?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” muttered Silgan, frowning. The pair started to walk towards the semi-frozen glass doors as the car pulled away. I don’t like this.

Alex gave Silgan his best “suck it up” look and said “Man it ain’t you we gonna work today, not yet. Gotta be thankful for that, at least.” Better than working a kid, you brute. 

Annoyed, Silgan responded “For a man from the south, you sure don’t know when to shut up. I’d give anything, short of die, to not have to do what we’re about to.”

The anxiety started seeping through Silgans muscles, as a chorus of voices became audible. “We made ourselves clear to the boss after that kid in upstate New York. Why the fuck is he messing with us.” Shutup!

“What? After all the great decisions, you’ve been making? You got us in this mess and we are supposed to keep quiet? Maybe we should make more of the decisions.” responded the voices, offended.

“Too bad the only possible outcome of you turning tail is death, aint it?” asked Alex, meeting Silgan’s eye with a knowing glare. “You good man? You look a little pale.”

“You’re worthless. Nothing. Can’t even do your job without trying to drown us, the useful parts of you, out with drugs!”

Nodding at Alex, Silgan reached for the door. The rounded metal handle was cold to the touch, but swung open smoothly. It had clearly been maintained better than the rundown mills exterior brick and the tools littering the ground.

“We protect you, you know. From the shit you’ve done, we contain it, so it can’t hurt your fragile ego, chemist. Pfft. You can’t even hurt a little girl without crying to Alex.” Mocked the voices.

You’re sick.

Laughing, the voices continued, “We know we are and so are you. You NEED us to survive, you’re weak, worthless, dreadful, you piece of human refuse. How can you be so fucked and be such a pussy at the same time? Running from us, changing your name time after time­–”

“Hey, buddy, gonna need you to focus up. Swipe your card.” said Alex, looking worried.

Confused, Silgan responded “Sorry, I’m fine.” Light-headed, Silgan reached for the RF-ID stored in his right suit-coat pocket. “This marks got me all out of sorts, the boss should have sent a different team to handle this one.”

“You know you’re the best, and this is pretty fucking important.” Noted Alex, as he shuffled into the opening elevator door. “That said, I gotta say it’s pretty unlikely she’s gonna know the creepy shit her daddies been planning. Sullie is a fucking ghost, and his family is probably as in the dark as we are.” I didn’t even realize Sullie had a family. He’s usually the one doing the black-mail, not the other way. The kind of man who’d shoot his parents to improve his image. 

The elevator was clearly much newer than the building, made of what appeared to be burnished nickel with steel. No, its texture suggest titanium. Expensive. Ding: U2–Silgan and Alex both took black latex gloves from the small dispenser on the back of the elevator shaft–Ding: U3–and started to put them on.

“Keep your head on straight in there man.” Alex said, looking straight ahead–Ding: U4.

“I know the drill. I just hope she knows something.” Responded Silgan, steeling himself–Ding: U5.

The elevator opened smoothly, revealing a dimly lit room. Stepping out of the lift, Silgan noted the observatory structure of the room. There was a chamber in the center of the room was lined on each of its four sides with glass. Probably one-way glass. The chambers four corners pointed to the middle of each of the surrounding rooms four sides, forming a diamond shape within a square. There were metal hand rails protruding from the glass, as well as speakers lining the ceiling. Those are gonna be hooked up to mics in the glass room, hard to say anything without being heard. 

A small woman sat at a desk in the far left corner of the outer-room. On his desk was an expensive looking Dill-Man laptop surrounded by various recording equipment. Really going high tech on this one. If I had any hope of getting out of this before, it’s gone now. These thoughts were further enforced by the two sets of guards in unmarked body armor holding what appeared to be automatic shotguns, with LMGs strapped to their backs. Normal ballistics, doesn’t look magnetic. One soldier stood on either side of the elevator, while the other pair guarded the entrance to the chamber.

Standing behind the small woman with the recording equipment was a tall, muscular man in a Navy blue suit. He wore dark sunglasses despite the already dim lighting. Those are probably tactical glasses. The guards have them too. He also had a wire trailing from his collar to his ear. As Alex and Silgan approached the desk, the tall man looked up, his face stoic, and hard. If his stature wasn’t imposing enough, his cleanly shaven and low cropped military hair surrounding a stone-like jaw were downright intimidating. Anabolics, hell of a drug.

“Gentlemen.” He said in a cracked base. Christ, where did they find this guy? Alex and Silgan both nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll be briefing you today. I’m not going to lie, we don’t know if she knows anything. We know she responds to Nessa. She was captured in a semi-prison during the raid on her father’s hideout in upstate New York along-side a mutilated corpse. We think she did it with a make-shift iron hook that was lodged in the man’s glabella, just below his forehead. Her medical examination revealed she’s already been the victim of significant abuse. We didn’t realize who she was until we tested her DNA, which matched Sullies DNA. For these reasons, it is clear that she has little value as a hostage, your mission is to extract whatever she has, by any means you deem necessary, and then dispose of her.

Silgan’s heart dropped to his stomach. That’s it, then. No two ways about it.


Thanks for reading!

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