Category: inspirations

Pretending to Forget

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I know a woman who, very much like myself, grew up reading comic books with starry eyes until her mom would come in and turn off the light. Like me, she was always a bit of tomboy who never backed down from being as fearless as the boys. Like me, she harbored a love for creating with her hands and soon found herself drawing portraits and exploring the potential that putting pencil to paper could create. She also had a knack for doing makeup and sewing. There was never a day she wasn’t wearing the latest fashion which she had lovingly sewn herself. She rocked out to Hendrix and the Beatles and had all the free spirit of someone full of inspiration and potential.

But a funny thing happened to this bright-eyed artist. Her mom threw her comic books away and she was taught that money was more important than this silly thing called art that could never support her. She was made to grow up in short order. She forgot her love of creation, or at the very least, pushed it deep down and pretended to forget.

Over this Mother’s Day weekend, I slipped a set of watercolors into my mom’s hands and watched a smile creep on her lips and her eyes close as if the lids were heavy with the memories of days when she could enjoy such things without being judged by others. Against all other forces, my mother has been there encouraging me and telling me what her parents didn’t tell her. That art is viable, that she accepts it as being a part of me, and that she will be there always to help me when the road is hard.

To this day, she has never thrown a single comic book away, though we have moved at least 20 times throughout my life.

Now, I can only hope to help her stop pretending, to tempt her with the empty canvas and the fresh paints and the feel of a brush in her hand. This gift of inspiration I inherited from her. I hope to give it back ten-fold.

So the next time you look at your parents and think that they are just boring old business folk, ask them what they used to do for fun when they were your age. I guarantee that there are many out there who have pretended to forget their inner artist or had a dream that faded with all the years of being told that they could not.

This one’s for you, mom.

Introducing the Muses – Melakim Fahre

It occurred to me recently that there are a repeating set of figures in my art that most of you may recognize, but only a handful really know. As a storyteller and an artist, my art is driven most strongly by character-centric work, particularly characters which I have been writing about for years, yet have never really shared with the general populace. I wanted to shed some light on some of these characters that have been featured in my art and who continue to inspire me to this day. More than merely sinking into the background, these characters have endured themselves to my imagination, tempting me to distraction when my mind should be occupied elsewhere.

Without further ado, I present one of my most recent muses: Melakim Fahre, the Shadow Hunter (or ‘Mae’ for short).

Melakim’s Artistic Evolution:

The Short Bio: The nihilistic bounty hunter with a distrust of people. As an infant, he was found birthed from the body of a dead woman, an inauspicious omen to the clerics who took him in, as well as his strange, seemingly blind right eye. He lived life as a servant before their fear of him drove them to extreme measures and a botched exorcism. He escaped and lived life on the rough streets of the city before being taken in by a rich patroness, Siin Fomori, who has since raised him as an assassin for her organization, Blood Meridian. He spends most of his time as far away from the organization as possible, much rather preferring the simple life of a woodsman hunter.

The Long Bio: Available Here

What inspired this character?

This particular character started with the simple flash of inspiration that began with the eyes. Even before I had a concept, I knew I wanted him to be devoid of an eye. In earlier versions of the character, he was burned by an angel who took his right eye in battle. I created him as a character to be roleplayed in a past online roleplaying game with nothing more than a wish to portray a character that was not likeable, and therefore a break from my general leanings towards charismatic, moralistic characters which were merely reflections of myself in the world of Dungeons and Dragons (which I played in high school and college). Melakim started out mean, tired of the world, and more apt to stop and help someone only if they offered him money. The one simple exception to this auger was that he could never resist that annoying urge to help a child in need, which is the origin of his namesake, Melakim, the guardian angel of children’s safety.

Melakim is and has always been one who lacks general faith in humanity, and yet at the same time, has a burning need to be accepted. He teeters on the edge of falling in to that darker side, while being tempted by the hope that perhaps everything is not as he has perceived it in his experience, a fact which has made him most intriguing for me. Perhaps he is a reflection of my own past? Moving around with my family for the military left me with many days by myself pondering if it was worth getting involved in emotional connections with people at all. It hurt so much to say goodbye, it hurt to have issues with others, and yet, oftentimes it is only by interacting with others that we learn just how beautiful the world really is.

Melakim also presents a way for me to examine the psychology of the half-breed, or one between worlds. In his early incarnations, he was half angel and half mortal, yet never quite accepted by both, a stigma I can empathize with, being half Puerto Rican and Caucasian. In his latest incarnation, he is plagued by being always half tuned in to the spirit world, and the feeling of never quite being part of the living or the dead, especially with the way he is ostracized by superstitious individuals who view his white eye and and extra-sensory perception as evil. Melakim in all incarnations often felt lost and confused with no place or people to call home.

Despite his moral lack of faith in people, he still has compassion buried deep down, though it is a question of how long this compassion will remain. Roleplaying games have come and gone since his inception and now he exists in my imagination, beckoning me with the thought of novelization.

How do you get inspired to create art and writing for this character?

Music is a large part of my artistic process. Certain chords and lyrics strike a certain vivid image in my mind’s eye which helps me when I’m in the mood to create. I listen to a lot of music by VAST, Jon Crosby’s dulcet, soulful tones being as close to how I imagine Melakim sounding than anyone I’ve ever heard.

EDITAR: Now that Melakim has undergone a gender switch for novel purposes, I’ve been drawn to different vocalists, including Florence+The Machine and Ellie Goulding. Funny how that works!

I must also admit an affinity for other long haired hunters, such as the Vampire Hunter D and Yasha, the demon slayer from RG Veda. Watching these anime flicks always get my juices flowing for Melakim.

Playlist for Melakim: Available here

Until the next Muse, who are your muses? Why do they inspire you? How do you prepare yourself to write or draw for them?

Ang’s Vault of Horrors: Gargoyles

…or more commonly called the pile of ages old artwork stuffed under my bed which I have never dared to share before! There was a time when I was obsessed with an old Disney cartoon series called Gargoyles. Throw faerie myths, Shakespeare, and King Arthur into a blender with modern mythologies and you have a combination for win in my book. I loved this series, and STILL love it. The animation still beats all the half-arsed cartoon series I see on tv today.

I was fascinated by the glowing eyes, proud demeanor, and aerial prowess of these gorgeous creatures and drew them ALL the time. To say that they influenced my early artistic development, both as an artist and a writer, would be an understatement.

Enjoy this peek into my early obsession with winged creatures. Many of these characters evolved from gargoyle wanna-be’s to the main characters of my obligatory never-ending fantasy epic (more on that later). Just about all of this work is from the 1990’s.

Just goes to show that we all start somewhere!

This was the very first image I did of the gargoyles sort featuring an ooold character named Nava. Done in cheap crappy marker and Precision pens! I miss those pens sometimes. Notice the crappy Photoshopped spliced photo background. I did that a lot in the old days till I learned better.

Here’s Nava and her boyfriend, Matayo. I had a thing for Spanish names and tragic couples back then. By this time, I’d finally discovered Prismacolor marker.

This one’s from middle school! Egads, the bad comic book anatomy.

This red gal here (Natalia), became my main obsession after awhile. She’s gained a few fingers since that last picture!

Natalia’s daughter, Helena. How we get blue from red is thanks to her very blue daddy. I recall drawing and coloring this particular pic entirely during a high school algebra class (and somehow still passing the class). Discovered Prismacolor Color Pencils around this point.

More evolution of Natalia and my anatomy skills. It seems I loved complicated tattoo and jewelry designs even back then. I still love her little wing arms in this one. Even they have blades!

Last one for now! This is Natalia’s red daughter, Coronada (wee more Spanish names!). She was the mean one who could use the little ribbons around her arms as weapons with moon blades on the ends. Still loving this design. I will have to do something new with it sometime!

And that’s all for this peek into my artwork chamber of horrors. Stay tuned for more as the excavation under my bed continues!

Do you all have any old work or ideas you’d like to share? I would love to see that I’m not the only one who made up strange tales of red and blue people when they were a kid.

The Need to Fly

Quickie Updates:

  • Just finished writing half of Chapter 1 of the semi-secret book project, now begins the illustrating!

  • Working on entering more shows this year, including Mobicon, Dragoncon, and San Diego Comic Con. Cross your fingers for passing dcon jury! I may have a table this year, if all goes to plan.

  • Dabbling with new tile pendants and jewelry designs (keep an eye on my jewelry sketchbook and Etsy Updates for more)

  • Working on a possible entry for the Good vs Evil contest

  • Trying to repress the project fairy so I can get work done!

    • More ramblings about angels in art…

    This weekend, I had the great pleasure of riding with Windfalcon to visit the birds of prey wildlife center at Georgia Southern University. Besides getting some wonderful reference shots of these graceful creatures, I found myself thinking on the meaning of wings. With angels on my mind lately for several projects I’m working on, I’ve been pondering the reason why so many artists and poets decided to meld these feathery appendages with the human form throughout the ages.

    What is it about the inclusion of wings that has marked these beings as divine? Perhaps the ability to fly , an unprecedented thing for early man, makes them boundless? Perhaps the untouchable beauty of watching a bird in flight inspired these artists to try and recapture that awe within the human figure? If ancient man was so fascinated by the impossible prospect of flight that they reflected this need upon angels, why, then, does modern man still find it so fascinating? We have long been capable of flight thanks to the Wright brothers, and yet, most angels are still drawn with wings.

    What might an angel look like in modern imagery if we try to reflect what we are incapable of achieving in the depiction of their form, just as ancient man did in adding wings? Instead of a fiery sword, would an archangel carry an AK-47? A dragonscale bulletproof bodysuit over a set of Roman plate mail? These days, instead of wings, most angels in modern movies and books seem to wear long black trench coats and sashay dramatically with long, gorgeous locks of hair. Even more, these seemingly pure creatures have become sensual and human in a way that has added an edgy fascination for many.

    Whatever the reason, I can personally see why early man might have chosen to give a human the grace of a bird, just from peeking into that world of birds of prey and watching these lightweight hunters float soundlessly on the air, or fly so fast they barely leave an imprint in my vision. Birds really are wondrous creatures…a pity we mainly ignore them because we’re simply too used to them being around us.

    I suppose we should thank/blame Windfalcon for this post. She bit me with her bird fever. If anyone’s interested, I’ll be posting up some of the reference footage I shot while at the raptor center at my YouTube page sometime soon once I get permission to do so.

    Until next post, enjoy this contemporary take on a classical archangel.

    What Moves You? Exploring Artistic Inspiration

    I remember a time when I was first learning about art that I found myself amazed at how the play of light, shadow, and emotion could be created from a simple stroke of the brush. In particular, I was drawn to the Renaissance masters and the religious art meant to teach an illiterate populace the lessons of the bible without ever having to read a word. The lesson was in the compassionate pose of the hands, the elegant sweep of hair, the blush of divine light. Artists made a living from telling epic stories meant to move the soul.

    Today, and many days previous, I find myself wondering how, as an artist, I can bring that same kind of emotion to my work. Like any mystery, it starts with the self and what affects you, personally. Have you ever found yourself staring at a piece of art? What causes you to stare at it longer than a simple glance? What grips your soul? What makes you think?

    For me, there are a few particular pieces that make me stare in awe and trigger an unnameable emotion. The first would be the painting Saint Eulalia by John William Waterhouse.


    Before I knew her story, I was fascinated by the delicacy of her skin and the gentle fall of snow. Not only was this piece visually stunning to me, but the contrast of such a violent act as the murder of a child with the soft fall of snow jarred me in some unidentifiable way. I went on to learn that Eulalia was a Christian child who taunted the Romans, and was later tortured with hooks and burnt at the stake, where she died of smoke inhalation. At the moment of death, a dove symbolizing the holy spirit flew from her mouth. A miraculous fall of white snow appeared to cover her naked form.

    The next piece is one of my all-time favorite works of art and also my favorite sculpture. I hope to one day make a pilgrimage to the Louvre to see it in person. If you don’t know it already, it is the Pieta by Michelangelo.


    Again, the subject of death, self sacrifice, and those who are left behind seems to be one that strikes me at the core. What greater pain could there be than for a mother to lose her child? And yet, there’s something endearing and brave in Mary’s gentle expression. Even in such a moment of pain, her serenity expresses nothing but pure love in the face of such sorrow.

    I could go on about Millias’ Ophelia and Waterhouse’s Lady of Shalott, but I want to hear from you. I seem to be firmly ensconced in works depicting the ecstasy and passion of martyrs. What this says about my work, I’m not quite sure yet, but it seems like I still have some exploration with subject matter to do beyond my current fair of ‘pretty things’.

    What paintings or works of art move you and why? How has this inspired your own work?

    Forsythia Walkthrough & Angelic Inspiration

    After so many serious business posts, I thought I might air out this journal with a glimpse into a walkthrough I’ve been working on lately to stretch my legs at writing instructional art direction. The first blossoms of Spring have sprung and everywhere the Forsythia have blossomed in bunches of yellow splendor. This awakening of color has inspired my latest little miniature piece, Forsythia.

    Why I chose to make such a detailed piece a mini, I’ll never know.

    I’ve found a good deal of inspiration as well in reading Angels: Celestial Spirits in Legend and Art by Jacqueline Carey which has brought my eye back to such old forgotten favorites as Botticelli and Weyden, among others. There are so many angels with bright multi-colored wings, gleaming peacock eyes, and other peculiar details that I never would have noticed if I hadn’t come back to these artists with a new perspective. The ol tried and true formula of the angel with white wings and a ring halo is definitely one I’m seeking to break.

    Without further ado, here’s an excerpt of the first few steps of my latest work. You can view the entire walkthrough as it happens here. I’m currently about to begin the watercoloring phase.

    Are my instructions easy to understand? Do you have any suggestions for how I might improve? Let me know! These tutorials are for you. I want to know what you want.

    Return from the Big Easy

    Yup folks I’ve returned from New Orleans unscathed, pining for the delicious N’awlins food, and primed to hop back into the swing of things with revitalized inspiration. Some of the highlights of the trip include, but are not limited to:

      * The ride there was my first ever train ride (minus the time I was too young to remember). I spent most of my time reading in the lounge and chowing down in the dining car where they had actual trained chefs preparing the food. Trains are awesome.

      * I had plenty of weird meats for the first time, including fried alligator bits (aka. chewy predator chicken) and duck quesadillas.

      * Drunken karaoke at Cat’s Meow

      * Getting kissed by old guys at the Saint Patty’s Day parade

      * Bread pudding! I FINALLY got some after making it my personal mission to eat bread pudding at the very seat of bread pudding’s advent in the States.

      * Getting blackmail evidence of Windfalcon and Girlanime on video tape

      * Strolling the cemeteries and haunted houses of the French Quarter

      * Sitting in a voodoo priestess’ altar room and making a really loud ‘hmm’ noise when no one else was speaking

      * So many mask shops I about died of inspiration! It’s inspired Windfalcon and I to do some research on the matter. Mayhaps there will be leather masks in our future?

      * Watching Girlanime rabidly consume oysters as if her life depended on it.

      * Watching Windfalcon try oysters for the first time with a really thoughtful expression on her face.

      * Eating at a new place every day!

      * Bars that have angel art ALL OVER THE WALLS…whilst playing banned racist cartoons from the 40’s.

      * A tour guide with the most boisterous laugh that echoed throughout the cemetery who was donned in bright yellow crocs, a yellow pin striped shirt, and had a yellow umbrella. Best tour guide EVAR.

      * Met an awesome sidewalk artist named Jack who actually KNEW that there are angels who are terrifying wheels of fire. He also gave random lectures about animism to curious passersby and was generally made of win.

    The 24 hour train ride there and back gave me some time to relax and read some of the books that have been sitting on the wayside for awhile, including Angels: Celestial Spirits in Legend & Art by Jacqueline Carey and the first of the Fables graphic novels.

    It was also nice to have the time to sit and think (and doze) without the constant hum of the computer and insistent siren call of the internet. We all need a good disconnect at times and this was a much needed one. I’m happy to return refreshed with my inspiration guns loaded and an agenda filled with several big projects, some of which I can’t talk too much about.

    I will say, however, to prepare yourselves for an influx of angel art from me. I’m boning up on my winged beings for a very specific project that will be taking up my time for the next year or so. Art may be slow while things unwind behind the scenes, but I hope to keep you entertained with blog posts in the meantime. I’ll also be posting a few sneak peeks at my forum if you’d like to get a heads up over everyone else.

    Until we meet again.

    PS
    If you’d like to see a video diary of our New Orleans adventure, I’ll probably be posting up the highlights at my YouTube once I can be fussed to edit and convert the files.

    Folklore – Beating the Shinies out of Faeries


    After so many serious posts at this blog, I thought I’d offer a brief interlude for my mid-week post.

    As it stands, I cannot hide that there is a bit of geek in me. I’ve always harbored a love for anime and video games and sometime last year I began a wholesome little epic on the PS3 entitled Folklore, a PS3 exclusive title that came out early on in the system’s lifespan. Why am I talking about it on my art journal? Because it is my belief that video games are a highly realized art form, despite popular belief in its low brow value as a form of entertainment, and it can be inspiring the same way music, movies, and books are for me.

    Folklore is one of those games that just tickles my muse silly.

    From concept to execution, form to music, Folklore has a story and a look that hooked me from the start and breathed a little life into my muse when I was feeling less than inspired some time ago.

    The Story? A young woman named Ellen ventures to the nearly abandoned village of Doolin in Ireland to uncover the secrets of her past that have been buried there. With no memory of who she is, she quickly finds that Doolin is not all that it seems and the strange calling of the ancient Henge beckons her enter the dream world of the Fae to find out.

    Enter Keats, the other main character, a self proclaimed skeptic who writes for a dwindling paranormal magazine and yet doesn’t believe a word he himself writes. A strange phone call from a scared woman claiming to be threatened by faeries draws him to Doolin where he is soon embroiled in the mystery of Ellen’s past.

    Review: Faeries, tattooed men, colorful characters, a superb artistic style, mystery, murder, and action, to boot! I felt like this game was designed for me. Others complain about the repetitiveness of the gameplay, but I always found something new and exciting to try with the numerous faeries, or Folks, whom Keats and Ellen befriend in each realm, even though I found myself sticking to a trustworthy few who would get the job done. In order to ‘befriend’ a Folk, you have to beat it until it’s ‘Id’ pops out and then use the motion controls on the PS3 controller to literally yank it out! This was one of the most stress relieving effects of the gameplay and why I like to say that ‘beating the shinies out of Faeries’ is one of the most gratifying activities you can do in this game. I also love a good mystery and each level dropped enough clues to keep me wanting to know ‘whodunit’ in the end.

    The strength of this game for me, however, was in its visual flair. Each dream realm the characters enter is created from a certain emotion which humans feel towards death, such as the Faerie realm, which was created from the belief of ancient and medieval man in a Elysian Field type of Heaven. The Faery realm is accordingly bright and colorful with a dreamlike haze while other realms, such as the Endless Corridor, conjure mankind’s idle thoughts on modernity producing a realm full of Dali-esque melting landscapes and the abandoned skeletal forms of clocks, thrones,and book shelves. Each level contains a boss, or a Folklore, created from the lost souls of each realm and suiting to its design. I found myself wanting to get through each realm just to see the terrifying or just plain weird creatures at the end of each one.

    All in All: This is one of the few games I will probably do fanart for, which is rare for me. If you enjoy a bit of action, mystery, and well…Folklore, than this game is for you.

    And now I shall leave you with a brief cut scene from the game which will explain why I list tattooed men as one of its virtues:

    Next on my video game palette: Assassin’s Creed, because nothing says ‘badass’ like taking a leap of faith into a hay pile off of a 20 story building.

    Are you afraid of buttons?

    Koumpounophobia – the fear of buttons on clothing. Plastic buttons, metal buttons, buttons on coats,…buttons in doll eyes?

    This past week I hopped in the car with my movie adventuring mom and caught Coraline on opening night. I went in with the high expectations of one who has worshiped Gaiman’s work since reading Sandman in my younger days and came out as amazed and satisfied as I had hoped to be. Admittedly, I have not read the original novel, but this movie has sparked my interest and it’s yet another book on my monstrous pile of ‘to read’.

    Synopsis: Coraline is a disgruntled preteen who has just moved in to the Pink Palace Apartments with her parents, who are far too busy to make time for her. While exploring the house, Coraline discovers a locked door which has been oddly sealed by the wallpaper. Beyond this door lies a world which she never could have imagined…a world where she is happy.

    …or is it?

    Review: What I find most impressive about this movie is its unwillingness to devolve into yet another sickly sweet animated film that preaches to children that everything is without challenge and consequence in life. By putting the main character in real danger, she is more apt to learn a lesson and to prove herself than if she is completely in a zone of comfort where there is always someone to protect her. After all, this sense of grappling with morality and the darker side of life is what made Grimms’ and Anderson’s fairy tales so provocative. Children learned to fear the darkness, but they also learned that there are those who have challenged it and survived. Some may tell you this is not a movie for kids, but I would disagree. It’s the perfect movie for children over 12 who are already beginning to wonder about that scary world of the unknown.

    After all, when I was 12, my friends and I were already sitting around telling one another ghost stories and challenging one another to go into the bathroom, turn the lights off, and spin 8 times chanting the name of Bloody Mary.

    Then again, perhaps I was just a morbid child?

    This movie particularly reminded me of a story we used to tell about how you can see ghosts by holding up a ring and peering through it. I was always too afraid to try and could only look through the ring for a couple of seconds before wussing out.

    As far as the movie itself, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was not stop-motion or claymation, but rather full on CGI (EDIT: Actually it IS stop motion animation apparently. Glad to see this form returning! I saw some 3D models online and thought they were computer animated. That makes this even MORE impressive in my book). It takes real talent to make a computer animated film look as if it was done by a traditional method and every bit of it, from the delapidated gardens to all of the personal touches in Coraline’s room made the film have a distinct and well planned atmosphere.

    The voice acting was superb and the soundtrack suiting with its softer moments of piano and the children’s choir which gave it an appropriately creepy main theme throughout.

    Overall: I give this movie a 4 out of 5. Enjoyable to more than just children. Definitely recommended for fans of Gaiman’s work or those with a sense of macabre.

    For those who fear buttons? I am afraid you are out of luck with this one!

    Heart of Ink

    I saw Inkheart last week and it really got my pondering juices flowing. If you haven’t heard of it, it’s the latest in Brendan Fraser’s stream of young adult novel to movie adaptations. Not the best flick, but it had it’s moments. I loooved Paul Bettany as Dustfinger. As a movie, it falls short of really hitting the nail on the head for an adventure flick, but what I found the most intriguing about it was the concept of the “Silver Tongue”.

    Silver Tongues are individuals who, by the act of reading aloud, can bring anything into existence. Now imagine that you are an author and you are suddenly confronted with your own characters, who are quite tormented and angry that you’ve put them in the situation that they are in (something which occurs in the movie).

    What would your characters say to you if you met them face to face? What inspired you to make them the way they are? If your characters suddenly became real, how would they react to the ‘real’ world? It was interesting to see how villains in the Inkheart world adapted to use the technology of our world, which made their jobs of being thieves that much easier.

    The whole concept got me to thinking about the relationship between an author and a character. Why do we make them? Why do we torture them?

    Personally, I started creating characters as a young child in order to sleep at night. I always needed a good bedtime story to get to bed and I never grew out of that. If I’m not dreaming up a story before I’m sleeping, I can’t sleep at all. Every night, I imagine a scenario of some sort, my prince Ramah racing across a moonlit beach in his desert kingdom; Melakim hunting a dangerous adversary through a dark wood; Aurora diving off of a skyscraper in some elaborate aerial maneuver to penetrate a building’s security. There are all manner of stories and situations that end up fueling my art and writing at some point.

    Where would the fun be if you didn’t put them in danger? Everyone needs a little tension, though I will admit being a bit of a sadist when it comes to torturing them. Aren’t we all?

    Or maybe it’s just me…