Though I have walked through out the world around,
And seen the sun and rain Upon the foreign ground;
Back home I sail, to see the Viking shore,
The Stormark that I love, the land of tale and lore.
Across the sea, whatever foes may be,
Stormark will always be, my home eternally.
My sword has clashed, steel biting hardened steel,
My comrades side by side, no coward thoughts we feel;
But once back home, with peoples warm and pure,
My sov'reigns strength is all, I need to be secure.
Across the sea, whatever foes may be,
Stormark will always be, my home eternally.
In Stormarks halls, amongst my friends and kin,
Is where I long to sta
I'll write this now, while I still can
While the words still exist
To express this.
For I do know that some day soon,
My mind will fall silent,
It's time is near.
No one recalls that silent passed,
And so the unheard may
As well be dead.
I made mistakes in that first...thing
Cannot remember what
Was intended.
I'll sing without you but...wait this
It's a line from a song
I heard today.
Things I don't need fill up the brain
Crowd out what's left of me
Throw it away.
Let me forget all of the pain
All of the sadness but
please leave my words.
I do not hear you, I have to hide my face
I only feel your voice, the insistent heavy bass
It always sounds like anger, no matter what you say,
telling me, for all my actions, I will have to pay.
Bad poetry. It's all I can ever manage. I best stop there really, rather then write some rubbish only good for emo haired over mascarad myspace users.
Not that you'll ever read it or hear it anyway. You never listen. Only shout. Well, ok so it's not shouting. It's usually loud, but even when it isn't, it still is powerful enough to make me cower in the corner. You can't even ask for a cup of tea without sounding like you're comdeming someone to
Though I have walked through out the world around,
And seen the sun and rain Upon the foreign ground;
Back home I sail, to see the Viking shore,
The Stormark that I love, the land of tale and lore.
Across the sea, whatever foes may be,
Stormark will always be, my home eternally.
My sword has clashed, steel biting hardened steel,
My comrades side by side, no coward thoughts we feel;
But once back home, with peoples warm and pure,
My sov'reigns strength is all, I need to be secure.
Across the sea, whatever foes may be,
Stormark will always be, my home eternally.
In Stormarks halls, amongst my friends and kin,
Is where I long to sta
I do not hear you, I have to hide my face
I only feel your voice, the insistent heavy bass
It always sounds like anger, no matter what you say,
telling me, for all my actions, I will have to pay.
Bad poetry. It's all I can ever manage. I best stop there really, rather then write some rubbish only good for emo haired over mascarad myspace users.
Not that you'll ever read it or hear it anyway. You never listen. Only shout. Well, ok so it's not shouting. It's usually loud, but even when it isn't, it still is powerful enough to make me cower in the corner. You can't even ask for a cup of tea without sounding like you're comdeming someone to
How to Draw Accurately -or- Learning to 'See' by Lulie, literature
Literature
How to Draw Accurately -or- Learning to 'See'
There's a way of seeing that artists use that normal people don't use. People call it "learning to see" or "right brain thinking". Discussion about this is often vague or mystical -- but there is nothing magic about it, it's just a limited set of skills that lots of people pick up (and teach) intuitively, nothing more. These skills are:
1. Recognising whether something is an edge.
2. Judging angle.
3. Judging size.
4. Judging placement.
5. Judging proportion.
6. Judging value.
I'm pretty sure that's all there is to it (for pencil drawing). Okay, so what do these mean, and more importantly, how do you learn these skills?
1. Edge
What: A bou
The first part of the first one, (your Voice Deathens Me) was started about 7 years ago. The rest was writte up to be read at Story Telling.
The other was done a month or 3 back, and was prompted by my frustrations about my failing brain.
Ok, I am not an artist. I come here to look at art. But I would like to make something. A few things actually.
A while back, I had an idea for a web comic. "Golden Gate", a sci-fi comic about a nobleman in the Holy Empire of the Trinity, a Bhuddist/Catholic empire which rules most of humanity.
I never did make it, partly because I could not draw well enough, and partly because I was not good and making up story lines. However, I do like making backstory for things. What I may do, if I ever get a tablet thingy, (mice are awekrad...orquad...aorcrud...difficult...to the draw with), is start drawing up pictures of stuff from the comic.
Most pi