pyraxis | Entries tagged with water song

There was never any question. The Magician has to be Gillian. The first person Fiona meets in Water Song, he's a merchant in the sea market who offers her uncommon kindness and shelter in his mysterious enchanted tent.

I've been revisiting the first chapter of Song of the Sons, since I've been exchanging it for feedback on a wonderful writing critique site. Gillian and his tent are the real stars of this chapter, and this painting has been sitting in the back of my head, in various forms, since the early days of developing the Water Song. Now I have the patience to render it fully.

The Magician is the first person the Fool meets in their journey. He opens the door into mystery and invites them to step through. To answer the Magician's call is to allow the potential of the unknown into your life, to look at what your deepest instincts are drawing you towards, and to accept that your unconscious has its own reasons. Those reasons are valid even if they initially make you uncomfortable and wary. Before understanding comes exploration, and exploration calls for courage and curiosity.

A brown-skinned man sits at a table, concentrating intensely on the tiny hammer in his right hand, the rod in his left hand, and the stone bead that they have just split into three fragments in a flash of light. Around him is a cluttered merchant tent, with shelves and chests containing goods of all sorts, from plants to scrolls to coloured yarn and cloth. Under the table is a half-covered basket of exotic fruit, and a large shadowed chest. In the foreground is another table, spread with meat pies of all shapes and sizes. In the background hangs a canopy made of brightly colored curtains.

Before I went into the writing Monastery for my revision course, I'd started revising the sparring scene between Fiona and Tarks in Water Song 1, based on all the new info from conversations and Ren Faire reference. I sketched it out and couldn't resist developing the sketch further than I'd planned.

A digital painting of two people sparring with wooden sticks in a rustic courtyard. The man on the left has studded leather armor, dark skin, short black curly hair, and an imposing presence as he strikes out with the stick to hit the young woman on her left upper arm. The woman is off balance, attempting a failed block with her stick, and wincing as she's struck. She has wild orange hair in a ponytail, a white shirt with the sleeves tied up around her shoulders, and tan slacks.

Procreate and Apple Pencil

The World is the 21st and last trump card in the traditional tarot deck.

Sha singing the water's return.

A small dark-skinned boy standing on a desert rock amidst the crashing wave of a flooding riverbed breaking around him. His head is thrown back, his arms spread, and he's singing with all his might. He's surrounded by a round nimbus of rainbow amidst the water spray. In the background is a clear blue sky and the round roofs of mud brick buildings,

A small dark-skinned boy standing on a desert rock amidst the crashing wave of a flooding riverbed breaking around him. His head is thrown back, his arms spread, and he's singing with all his might. He's surrounded by a round nimbus of rainbow amidst the water spray. In the background is a clear blue sky and the round roofs of mud brick buildings,

I started this one a long time ago. At least before covid. I could never get Sha's pose and proportions and expression right, so after a few failed attempts at reworking it, it went on the back burner until I could figure out what the problem was.

But now the cub is almost the same age as Sha was when this happened. I have a perfect model running around my own house. So I went back to it and finally got it looking more natural. I'm mostly happy with how it's come out now.

I couldn't think of a better title for this one. It's from the second book of Water Song.

Qi, again, being her wonderful self. But a few fronds of plants in salty soil feel futile at the edge of the wasteland.

A young black woman with close-cropped hair and concentric gold rings around her neck, kneeling in dry dirt with her palms pressed to the ground. Behind her is a bare salt flat with a few scrubby bushes, fading into a dusty haze, and the silhouettes of hills rising from the haze. At her side are two tall wood and hide drums. From her fingers are snaking tendrils of green, which rise and blossom into leaves.

Current Music: Peia - Blessed We Are

Trying to get it out of my head so I can focus on writing. Not sure if it will be successful. Today was a miserable failure possibly to the point of self-sabotage. (Self-sabotage still counts as luxury, I know, but couldn't bring myself to work or write.)

A close-up portrait of a grim-looking young redheaded woman staring into the distance. Her curly bedraggled hair is loose around her face and the whole image is suffused with pale blue-grey light that matches her eyes.

A close-up portrait of a grim-looking young redheaded woman staring into the distance. Her curly bedraggled hair is loose around her face and the whole image is suffused with pale blue-grey light that matches her eyes.

Nobody is Coming

A little sketch that started as an angsty exercise in disturbing skin tones (he's not dead, just very ill, and she may as well be a ghost). Been working on it bit by bit as an antidote to loneliness.

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Firesongs (Echo)

Adventures climbing the fourth wall

Entries tagged with water song

The Magician

Tarks and Fiona

The World

Preparing for Gatherday

More Water Song angst art

Forgotten

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May 2023

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