Meet Rex Reaper.
I'm not sure he's a keeper.
He visits only once.
Because his victims don't get a second chance.
Shroud underneath human skin,
Rex is a merciless reaper of sin
He doesn't care what bite sized rationales you feed yourself,
If only to protect your mental health.
Glance into his eyes, watch as he unravels your precious lies.
When Rex Reaper comes calling,
Into hell, is the only place you're falling.
Those who twist the truth, fear him.
His reaping is about to begin.
Here stands Humility,
Forever caught between her warring siblings, Pride, and Doubt.
Humility is the sister in the middle, our peace maker.
She is the humble tether, our aspiration to be better.
I had spent decades too fearful to draw.
Dancing with Doubt had me sure I would fail all that I loved,
Until last year, I grasped the hands of someone new,
I didn't know who she was, but I had nothing left to lose.
So I pulled Humility close,
and she revealed to me her book of hope.
It contained every melancholy moment in my history.
A novel of sorrow, wherein I was my own worst enemy.
I then fell upon pages of the present,
Its words within, like soothing whispers to my ear:
A heart heavy with dread,
Need not be a burden of lead.
Even mournful memories are made sweet,
When you can build beauty out of the bleak.
Saturating those pages with tears of relief,
Humility is the one who showed me,
It doesn't matter what I lack in self-belief,
To find my way back to art,
All I had to do, was pick up a pencil and start.
So, she guided me while I tentatively drew my first rose,
And one year later,
We're filling blank pages with the destiny we chose.
Through Humility, I found my way back to Art.
And nothing will ever tear us apart.
Among these pages we now play.
Exploring wild worlds of wonder and contrast.
Every picture, a portal.
Within our book of hope,
Is a universe, infinite, and immortal.
Drawn during my birthday week in Aug 2022, to celebrate my one year anniversary with Art.
Hi, my name is Sandrainia,
And I have story most profound,
Here in Seaview Marina,
Is where I nearly drowned,
We came to Compass for Coffee,
But my life it almost cost me.
I should have been protected,
but instead I was neglected,
Like paper in the wind I lifted,
To the water is where I drifted,
Now I'm falling through the air,
And sinking in despair.
Drowning in emotion,
Will I be devoured, by beasts of the ocean?
But a moment forlorn,
Is when I was reborn,
Because then hands reached in and saved me,
And a second chance is what they gave me,
I was a fragile piece of paper,
Now I'm something greater.
I thought that was the end of my story,
But now I'm destined for glory,
Shaped by my past,
I found my home at last,
Because of what transpired,
I am admired and desired,
Compass Coffee is where I had my fall,
But now I sit proudly on the wall.
Perched upon my throne,
Here, I'll never be alone.
Meiah is me,
She represents who I used to be,
Torn between a lost little girl,
And the machine she wants to see,
But she's trapped inside a cage,
A child consumed with rage,
If only she could tear away her skin,
She might escape his sin.
To protect someone's son,
She tries to be numb,
But he haunts her dreams,
Paralysed by silent screams,
Unable to run from shame,
She has to contain the pain,
So she built herself this cage,
And tried to turn a new page.
Meiah wants to be a machine,
But doesn't quite know what this means,
She just wants to be strong,
And forget how she was wronged,
But in order to heal . . . First she has to feel.
Let me tell you, the truth behind Gary,
A beast forged by the men,
Whose scars I do carry.
With good intentions they pretend,
And on naivety they did depend.
But as paper in my hand,
They feel like one man.
Thanks to Gary Good,
They're easier understood.
The beasts that did scare me,
I can see far more clearly,
And with words of weapons,
And a pencil of lead,
They're the ones who should fear me instead.
I did what I was told,
And allowed myself to be controlled.
If I did my best to please,
I thought peace would be achieved.
But part of my heart I sold,
And left out in the cold.
Now I want to be released,
And find relief from past grief,
But I can't yet feel whole,
When it's part of my soul,
That Gary still holds.
Marine Evolution Collection
Like the ocean,
I follow waves of inspiration.
Riding the swells passion I feel towards a drawing is how I protect my energy and joy towards art.
When receding tides of enthusiasm stall the evolution of a piece,
I thank it for the skills and speed it's allowed me to learn,
and the emotions it's allowed me to peacefully release.
Sometimes the spark reignites, my fingers begin to dance over the piece again, but rarely.
I'm more inclined to be swept into the rivers of a new world,
listen to the strange stories of chatty creatures,
and sail towards an infinity of adventure.
While technically, I consider these pieces to be no more than 69% complete,
part of my soul still sleeps in these cabins,
my essence alights even the most derelict of lighthouses,
and my heart swim with the seahorses,
racing through every flooded city.
Enjoy my work in progress.
One of three drawings I have focused on this little ship,
They're all part of my larger marine series.
They're part of a story I will release in time, along with drawing refinements when the inspiration overtakes me . . .
but for now, enjoy the evolution.
My first finished drawings!
Intended as practice doodles, I had no plans or expectations for these A4 sized pieces, but together in unison, we evolved.
These drawings will always hold a special place in my heart.
They taught me patience, observance, and control.
Each piece has revealed my failings, strengths, and my potential.
These pieces are brimming with emotion,
and saturated with meaning.
Every stoke, is a symbol of gratitude,
Because here, I fell in love.
These doodles are where my journey of joy began.
I wish upon a jellyfish,
Will you grant me deaths sweet kiss?
Pray with me, oh jellyfish,
I wonder if my soul they'll miss?
Dance with me little jellyfish,
Is there more to life than this?
Take me away my jellyfish,
Swish, swish, swish . . .
Pray tell me, what is your power?
At peace upon your throne,
Dancing among the stones,
Is the solitude an enemy?
Or is it your serenity?
How do I harness your power?
I'm afraid to be alone,
Teach me to sway among the stones,
Will you dance with me?
Together in the swirling sea?
Please little flower,
Can I stay with you for an hour?
This loneliness . . .
It's just too much for me.
My First Rose
My first rose,
Is when I finally chose,
To open up my heart, and draw myself a new start.
Like the flowers that bloom, this couldn't come too soon,
Wilted and forlorn, I was ready for the dawn.
Finishing this, my first drawing,
Felt like embracing a new morning.
When I was young,
I found solace in my art,
But I became filled with self disdain,
And couldn't handle the pain.
On paper all I could see,
Was weakness within me,
So to protect my heart,
I tore everything apart.
Now I'm healing my scars,
And dreaming of stars,
I was ready for the end,
But now it's my imagination that will ascend.
It doesn't matter where I am, or if life doesn't go to plan,
If I only close my eyes, In mystical worlds I can fly.
With a pencil in hand, I'm in a world I understand,
With every stroke of pure bliss, this paper I can kiss.
Creating art, feels like erasing the past,
Drawing something new,
Makes a hopeful future feel true.