This is death, of the Major Arcana of Tarot -

"Having left the tree from where he hung, the Fool moves carefully through a fallow field, head still clearing from visions. The air is cold and wintry, the trees bare. He knows he has started on his spiritual journey in earnest, but feels strangely empty and profoundly sad, as if he has lost something.

Before him he sees, rising with the sun, a skeleton in black armor mounted on a white horse. He recognizes it as Death. As it stops before him, he humbly asks, "Have I died?" And the Skeleton answers, "Yes, in a way. You sacrificed your old world, your old self. Both are gone, dead."

The Fool cannot keep from weeping. "Forgive me," he says, embarrassed by his tears. "There is nothing to forgive," Death replies. "Mourning is natural and you must deal with your loss before you can accept anything new. Keep in mind, however, that old leaves must wither and fly away from a tree's branches, leaving them bare, before new green leaves can appear." 

As Death rides away, the Fool sees the truth in those words. He, too, feels like a skeleton, all that he was stripped away. This, he understands, is how all great transformations start, by removing everything down to bare bone or soil so that something new has room to grow. "


Much of my inspiration is drawn from this master work:
Marilyn Manson's The Nobodies

Mr. Rochester

..and here is a quick fantasy-doodle of what I imagine Mr. Rochester of Jane Eyre to look like, straight from my DREAMS.

Also, some of my favourite Victorian-era names are here listed: Ashby, Asher, Jasper, Mordecai, and Hazel. You are quite welcome.

gunpowder gallows

for character design:

so we get to do our own story. mine is about a young twentysomething, named Agnes, (with the black bob and dia de los muertos face) who through some strange series of events gets sucked into the realm of the dead, and discovers the literal "deathrock" scene - everyone is ghouls and ghosts and zombies and  practically all in darkwave, goth, or post-punk bands! yeah! And she meets Jasper/Lucian/Mordecai, who is invariably involved. He sings and plays piano; he's kinda like Lestat (from The Vampire Chronicles).
I love that I didn't use reference for any of these. EVEN jasper who basically IS Nick Cave. basically.
and here's the final for Agnes:

drawings with paint

rudimentary sketches for my dedviktorianz

sounds like a cool fashion line

sometimes I think I should just design text and typefaces. writing words affords me a singular pleasure like no other.

sum dead victorians

these I like:

these I like a considerable bit less:

memento mori, post-mortem photography is an obsession. I did these quick drawings quite fast, which was very fun and loosened me up. I intend to do many more. Sadly, these have all been lost in the great case of the Missing Sophomore Year Artwork. 

P.S.

thank you, darcey young, for showing me that not all dead victorians need to be black and white.

if only I could take visual journalism all the time

anna wrote me a poem <3

2nd semester sophomore year sketchbook

blistered rattling bones

I'm taking a class called visual journalism, and every tuesday we go out into Baltimore and sketch. 

Here are some of those sketches:

ghost images, blurring, subtlety, elusive writing, fragmented words.

seeking in vain to capture moments of life -

pure, unnerving beauty.

reconciling urges of intuitive drawing with analytical drawing.

memory and transparency

bleeding images

come awake, spirit

first semester sophomore sketchbook update

why is it that I hate to love what is popular? why is it that I become jealous so easily despite my efforts to stifle those feelings of inadequacy, of total insecurity?

I really want you to sigh

never in tune,

just sigh