Sunday, September 9, 2012

Quick Sketch of the Day + Second Short Story

Hi Guys,

SO today I decided to draw my QSoD on paper instead of on my computer like I usually do. So that's why it looks the way it does (I scanned it in).

I got inspired to do this position from an artist who I follow. I drew myself a different character though. His name is: Character #546 (haha) I used to give my characters names all the time but I kind of stopped when I started drawing them more for practice than show. But I think it adds character to them when I give them a name. It just so happens that I named him something completely impersonal.

I was going to ink over him (and I still might) but it's a little late right now so I'll just give you guys something to look forward to in the near future. =)

Second Short Story for Sad:

So here's my second short story for my 'Music to Art' experiment. This one is considerably shorter than my one from yesterday but it still captures the story behind the picture. 



“Daddy look at this!” Michael ran up to his father, arms wide open, grinning from ear to ear.
“Whoa, slow down Michael.” Howard motion with his hand for the little boy to stop running. He was born weak and was easily injured by things most kids his age shook off.
“Daddy look!” Michael said to his father.
Howard sighed, “Yes Michael, what is it?”
“Look what I made for you.” Michael shoved a drawing of a purple rabbit with green ears, a blue mouth, and ten inch claws in Howard's face.
“Ugh... Look Michael. Daddy's busy right now. Show me later... okay?”
Michael's little hands slowly retreated from his father's desk. “But.. it was for you..”
Howard put his face in his hands then looked back at his son, “Look Michael, daddy's very busy right now. I have to write something very important for some very important people... But,” Howard swung Michael onto his lap, “Tomorrow we'll both draw a picture together.”
Michael's face lit up and he started bouncing with glee and excitement at his father's proposal, “Really Daddy? Do you really mean it?”
Yes. Of course Micheal. I'll buy a big canvas and some brand new paints.”
“What colors daddy?” Michael asked.
All the colors. We'll have red, blue, and green, purple orange, and aquamarine!”
Michael chuckled at his father's clever rhyme. “But what are we going to eat while we paint?”
Hmm.. Well.. we'll get the best cookies and the best milk there is.
“Okay, but what are we going to draw then?”
“Whatever you'd like to draw.” Howard pulled out a drawer and fished through piles of documents. “Here,” His hand reemerged with a pad of paper with a pen clipped to it, “I'll write down everything so that I'll know what to buy tomorrow.”
Michael jumped off his father's lap and ran into the hallway shouting something like “Mommy, mommy! Guess what!”
Howard smiled to himself then sank back into his work.

“Daddy...?” Michael looked up at Howard as he walked in through the front door (coming home after working three hours over time).
Howard didn't even bother to respond, only glance down with an exasperated look on his face.
Michael held up a note pad at Howard, “Daddy, your paper was still on your desk from yesterday. How did you remember what to buy?”
Howard closed his eyes, “Michael... I forgot,” He huffed and walked into his office.
Michael screamed, “But Daddy!”
“Michael I can't do everything!”
Michael took a step back, mouth ajar, frozen in place by his father's cruel voice.
“Michael... There are things that are just more important. If daddy didn't work he wouldn't even be able to buy you paints and cookies. When I get home from work I'm tired and I need to rest. But tomorrow, Michael, Daddy's going to paint with you... promise.”
Michael dragged himself back into his room without saying a word. He never saw his father break a promise... or get angry at him before...

Weeks passed but everyday Michael would ask his father the same question: “Did you get the paints, Daddy?” But each day it was met with the same answer: “...No.”
Howard's nights coming home from work had continued on just like that until his wife – Vanessa – greeted him with a question one night: “Howard... do you know what's up with Michael?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“He seems... not like himself today. He's been in his room all day and won't say a word to me.”
“He's probably just upset about the whole 'paints' thing. You know he has the worst attitude about it...” Howard's angry frown became a curious frown when he looked at his wife. “What.. is something else wrong?”
“Well... I think...” Vanessa took a step closer to her husband, “Howard... I think he's coming down with a fever.”
Howard gasped then walked to his son's door. The last time Michael had a fever – when he was two – he almost died. Being born weak, his body handled certain illnesses differently than most. It took what seemed like an eternity to bring his fever down, but, even with it back to normal his life still threatened to disappear from the boy.
“Michael?” Howard knocked on the door but there was no answer. Walking in he saw his son laying face down on the floor.
Michael!” Howard ran to his son's side. “Michael answer me!”
Vanessa ran in and shrieked, “I just checked up on him minutes ago! He must have gotten out of his bed!”
Michael's entire body was drenched in sweat and his face was as red as the crimson colored paint on his desk.
“What..?” Howard looked back at his son's writing table. There, spread out with red, blue, green, purple, orange, and …. light blue crayons, were two chocolate chip cookies, a carton of milk with two glasses right by it, and a sheet of paper.
Michael! Wake up!” Howard shook his son but nothing was waking him up. “Vanessa! Call 9-1-1 now!
Howard's head whipped back around to look at his son.
“Daddy... did... did you buy the paints?”
A single tear from Michael's eye ran down onto Howard's hand.
“I... I.. we.. we can still do it.” Howard gave a weak smile and carried him over to the desk. “See look, we have everything we need. Red, blue, and green, purple, orange and.... and aquamarine.”
Michael tried to laugh but only a wheezy cough came out.
“Michael.. what do you want to draw?” Howard awkwardly positioned a crayon in his left hand while holding Michael with his right arm.
“Daddy.. I want you and me.. together.” Michael started closing his eyes.
“No wait!” Howard worked frantically, “Look! Michael, look! I drew it... see?”
But Michael's eyes had already closed, “That's nice daddy. It looks pretty.” His breathing slowed, his heart beat stopped, and soon... all that was left of Michael was a lifeless boy dangling from his father's arms.
“The ambulance will be here any min-” Vanessa was cut short by Howard's hand signaling for her to stop.
“From now on.. every night when I get home from work, Vanessa,” Howard turned around to look at his wife, tears in his eyes, “Ask me if I got the paints and don't stop... until I do...”

So that's it. Don't forget to come back tomorrow to read the last story from my drawing: Action.

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