|Sketched out (2B) then Prisma colored Calendar piece.|
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Viewer Appreciation / Weekly Discount CommissionOne day I staggered on to DeviantArt with a wandering eye and a room to decorate. I was here for prints, commissions and whatnots. While the community is more than helpful, I was left a bit in the cold about how there wasn’t much interaction in the scenes I was trying to create with fellow artists. I was also limited by budget. Every character I added doubled - tripled - the cost. That’s why when I hung up my own commission sign years ago, I put into policy that three characters were included. 3 characters per piece. I wanted scenes possible because while it was what I was looking to buy, it was also what I wanted to build and now I have quite the wondrous portfolio of scene after scene. None of which would have been possible by sticking to the one character code.
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| Original Characters | Just Bones
ROBIN WILLIAMS tribute / Weekly DiscountWeekly Discount for AUG 18 - 25
I had just gotten off work. I was working at a theme park then. For cereal. Honesty, what an atrocious idea. It wasn’t even an original one. Sixteen thousand feet dedicated to how corn or wheat turns into Lucky charms. Six bucks for any adult to get in and find there was ziltch for you to do. It was a play park for toddlers and as a parent of a toddler… looking back? You got maybe ten minutes of activities. It was a real poor choice for your Mall of American vacation fund. Our general director had stolen the whole concept from Kellogg (theirs is closed now too) and pitched it to General Mills. Several twenty foot statues of Trix and Lucky later, that general director would get his promotion and lay off the entire park.
That would come later, of course, as I was a new hire when I encountered the body. I rode the bus. City busses are a necessity for low income students. All my money didn’t exist. Numbers. Blips on a screen. None of that paid for transportation. No, I lived by the coin and so did the dead man, it would seem. He was propped up against one of the concrete benches with a needle still in hand. I touched him. Being a kid. Being stupid. Right against his neck like you learn in Health class and they give you that paper thin First Aid card. My fingerprints right against the cold neck.
I was lucky. I had that to focus on. Would I go to jail? This was the early 2000’s. Crime Scene Investigation and Special Victim’s Unit were the go-to on the tube. No, I didn’t reflect on who that man was or what suffering he dealt with. In fact, he would vanish all together in my memory until the deaths. Until I was a regular funereal attendant and suddenly that icy neck returned from the cobwebs.