Squibbles' Art Thread

[squibbles]

Alright. So I had this thread in images, but then it dawned on me that I also write, play music and animate, as well as make images, so I thought about it, and realised that the most appropriate place for this thread, really, was multimedia. So I asked Chase to move it across, and he, very kindly may I add, moved it for me. That's my explanation for this. Now, enjoy.

[wedgie]

When I read the word 'Macabre' I was expecting something a little more dark. Meh.

[Vyacheslav]

When I read the word 'Macabre' I was expecting something a little more dark. Meh.

Yeah I agree... this has a LORAH feel to it.

[Tunco]

It makes me think about "Animation attacks Animator."

[Aphex]

are you guys kidding? this picture made me shit bricks. I was so horrified with the dark subtle implications of this image that i could not even type out a reply to the topic.

I mean, i can watch the original exorcist without a care in the world, but when I even glimpse at that {shudders} image, I have to go to sleep with a extra bright night light.

[squibbles]

I feel I should apologise to christians for this one.



Sorry.

[Vyacheslav]

The drawing style is not dark at all. Try using darker colors, especially a dark background instead of white.

[squibbles]

That's kinda what I'm going for.

Cute, fun-looking characters and landscapes, with really dark themes. I like the juxtaposition.

[Vyacheslav]

Stop copying me.

(Kidding).

[Aphex]

THE HORROR! THE HORROR!
D:

the old cute and horrific thing reminds me of "far side" comics.

[DarkN]

@Squibbles: I agree. The juxtaposition is awesome. You have skill.

[squibbles]

Thanks DarkN, I appreciate it. :)

Also, Pavs, I would be lying if I said LORAH didn't influence me (quite) a bit. ;)

[Vyacheslav]

Thank you squibbles. I'm honored.

[origami_alligator]

It might be better if you spent more time developing the look of the drawing rather than simply the message you're trying to convey. The bright cheerful atmosphere of the backgrounds are fine, but the drawings are poor and don't make any of these pictures seem macabre at all, rather like 3rd grade comic panels.

[sawyerscott52]

sort of reminiscent of Happy Tree Friends...

[squibbles]

Money: A short story on the foolishness inherent in human nature.

Every morning at the break of dawn, traffic begins to flow and I wake and begin to walk to work. As I travel along the main street, I am greeted by looks of contempt from the working class drone. This isn’t a particularly unusual occurrence, as the respectable citizens always seem to be somewhat resentful of my freedom to be able to wear what I want, and be where I want to be. For the main part, today was an average day; the weather was fair, and my guitar was still mostly in tune from the day before. As usual, the morning was slow, and profits were minimal, as most of the people who can afford to give a couple of dollars were still in their offices. I thought back to the weekend, when I saw a calendar, and tried to calculate the day. In the end, I gave up and asked a passer by who dropped a couple of dollars into my hat, what the day was. “It’s Tuesday”, she replied, continuing on with that same expression of distaste that all people who deal with me wear. I mused on that fact for a while. Tuesday. What gives Tuesday particular relevance? Why, on a Tuesday, are there fewer people stopping in to McDonalds for breakfast? I thought on it for a couple of minutes, and then resumed playing guitar. Across the morning, I kept playing, and the people walking past continued to give what meagre change remained in their pockets from their coffee and McMuffin.

As the day wore on, more people began to cross the bridge as their lunch break began and they were released from their duties. As the workers crossed, I noticed that they all appeared to be, at least on the most superficial level, all the same. As they approached me, they all turned their heads away, and chose not to see me, preferring to remain indifferent towards those who are not the same as them. I imagined that as they entered the shop, they would all sit down facing in the same direction, simultaneously place their briefcases onto the ground beside their chair, and begin to munch on their identical Big-Macs. I started to feel hungry, but I knew I couldn’t yet afford lunch, so I sat in the shade and started to play something slower. As the lunch break progressed, more people continued to stream across the bridge, and I couldn’t help but notice that, while more were unrelentingly entering the shopping centre, very few were leaving. I wondered what the capacity of the place was; perhaps the store would collapse if enough people were concentrated in one area of the building. As I began to feel more nervous, the white-collar workers finally began to trickle out and to my surprise, almost every one of them gave me a couple of pieces of small change. As the last of them passed, my hat began spilling over, coins falling from the brim off the bridge and down onto the road below. As soon as I saw this I quickly moved the hat away from the edge and scooped a couple of handfuls of coins into my pockets. The day was mostly over and the main rush was past, leaving me with a treasure at my feet, the silver glittering up at me from my hat. I decided to count how much money I had, to see how this compared to previous days, and placing my guitar gently against the rails of the bridge, began to count my earnings. As I slowly counted, I realised that I had earned more in this one sitting then I had ever made before in one day. I continued to count, and the small piles of coins turned into a small mountain of silver and gold. I considered the size of this pile, and decided that I probably had about $40. For a single days work, that wasn’t bad, and I quickly put it all back into my hat, lest it tip over and more fall over the edge of the bridge to the ground below.

As I sat there considering what to do with my bounty, quietly playing a mellow song on my guitar, I realised that if I wanted to continue to earn money today, I would need to find somewhere to stow it, as both my hat and my pockets were full. Suddenly, the idea appeared in my mind that, rather then buying dinner later, and having to hide my money somewhere for the time in between, I could just eat now, and not have to worry about somebody discovering the hiding place for my coins. I decided that this was the best idea and with my guitar in one hand, and my hat balanced precariously on the other, I walked into the food court and found a seat near the McDonalds in the back corner. Clutching my money to my chest, I eyed the menu carefully, being sure to buy the most filling whilst still economic meal available. Eventually I approached the counter and, ignoring the look of disdain from the girl taking orders, requested a “Large Double Cheeseburger Meal”. Now $4.20 poorer, I returned to my table and sat down to enjoy the meal. As I began to eat my food, I wondered why I didn’t eat here more often. The burger was beautiful; the bun warm, the lettuce fresh, and the meat juicy; the chips were crisp and well salted, leaving a feeling of nourishment after eating; and the coke finalised the meal in such a way that left me full, and extremely satisfied. I looked at my money and realised that, whilst I did have significantly fewer coins, there was still too many to carry, and while wondering what to do now, I spied a sign in a shop window opposite the food court saying “30% off all Money Pouches”. Intrigued, I made my way across the food court, and entered the store. As I looked around I noticed that the store sold nothing but money pouches and small wallets, and I suddenly realised that this was the answer to my problem. I went to the counter, and asked which money pouch was the cheapest. The man behind the desk lifted his head, and quickly walked off, returning with a small black pouch. I asked how much it was, and he looked at the price tag, saying “32 dollars”. I quickly started to pull coins out of my hat, counting as I went, until the last of my money was on the desk in 32 piles, each valuing one dollar. I pushed them towards the man, gleefully grabbed the pouch, and ran back outside to the bridge.

I worked for another hour or so, but when I hadn’t made any money in the time I had been there, I decided to head back to the park and get some extra sleep. I deserved it, I think: I have a new pouch, yearning to be filled by tomorrow’s profits; a full and satisfied stomach; and have made more money today then ever before.

[Chase]

*Moved to Multimedia as per request.

[SlappyMcGee]

Well, now I'm upset about this.

[squibbles]

Well, now I'm upset about this.

I requested this be moved here becuase I plan to be putting more writing, as well as some music in here as I write/record it. It seemed more appropriate then in images with its new purpose.

[Tunco]

Well, now I'm upset about this.

I requested this be moved here becuase I plan to be putting more writing, as well as some music in here as I write/record it. It seemed more appropriate then in images with its new purpose.

Why not a blog?

[SlappyMcGee]

Yes, I agree with Tunco. I'm not sure why you need or deserve your own thread.