And with bees in her breath and the rest of her ringing they'll sting through her chest with a force hard and beating

Here is my contribution to Illustration Friday. The prompt was swarm.



I thought I would post the initial sketch I did of the bee as I think I like it better then the finished product. Why is it that always happens?

So raise a glass to turnings of the season and watch it as it arcs towards the sun

The computer beckoned.. but hey I like the results. One day I'll make real art again.

And I will sleep out in the glade just by the giant tree just to be closer when my spirit's pulled away

Holy crap I made a picture without a computer for a change! I don't know what came over me.

And how do we maintain our buoyancy in this salty lake of shit and tears and murder and disease?