As I’m having such a good time using my digital oil painting program, I thought it was about time I did another poortrait.
Now, long time visitors know that I’m hopeless at portraits, but I like to have a go every now and then. They tend to turn out more like caricatures than portraits, but I don’t mind that. And as stars go, this one is way up there! Oops – don’t want to give the game away just yet!
The question, as always, is just who is this poortrait meant to be of? Hazard a guess and leave who you think it is in the comments.
I will let slip the true identity in about a week’s time. As usual, I will not be offended by any incorrect guesses.
I needed to get out of this strange house on the hill. All those odd rooms with odd things in them left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed. Drained, in fact. Luckily, I’ve found the way out, and as soon as I’ve popped into this one last room I shall be out of here! There’s all sorts going on in this room – it’s like some kind of party room. Alas, I’m not invited, so that’s another reason to get out early! The guests are around somewhere – I can hear them breathing. Rattling.
Not a lot of buffet food, though. Two oranges and a few pieces of cheese. Good job I’m leaving. And I’ve found the key to make sure the door is well and truly locked once I leave.
What a strange experience this has been. And it makes no sense whatsoever either! Ah well. Onwards and upwards I suppose.
This post concludes my attempt at Inktober. The challenge says we can post everyday, or every other day, as we choose. I’ve used the prompts for every day, although not entirely posted everyday. This final piece contains the final twelve prompts, for days 20 to 31, all together in one random scene.
Included in this picture are my interpretations for Deep; Furious; Trail; Juicy; Blind; Ship; Squeak; Climb; Fall; United; Found; and Mask. I’m sure you can see where the prompts have been used.
I’ll put a spell on you
I’ll make you mine
Come over here – have this apple
A sip of wine?
You caught my eye, you see
Come here. Please be mine.
Follow my gaze, my dear
You’ll soon know why.
I’ll put a spell on you;
You’ll soon be mine.
Her long fingers beckoned me
To look into her sapphire eyes
She put a spell on me
But what a waste of time.
I put a spell on you.
Why aren’t you mine?
It’s not you, it’s me.
It happens all the time.
Three witches, Wanda, Winifred and Beryl
Wrote rhymes for their spells that were terrible
They sat down and thought
That they must do better
And gave up