Hey my name is Robyn, I'm a 20 year old Art student from England, I have a passion for art and I have loved writing short stories for years and I hope you enjoy my work, opinions are appreciated.
Thursday 9 June 2011
Tuesday 1 March 2011
The Angel statue from the story "Silver Mercy"
The Angel I painted yesterday in acrylic and gouache paint also
featuring an abstract rose, which was taken from a lino print design I drew.
Thursday 24 February 2011
Tuesday 22 February 2011
Monday 21 February 2011
Monday 31 January 2011
The hand as described in "Silver Mercy"
A hand created through a description made in one of my stories on this blog, the line; "The dark crimson liquid seeped through my fingers which were gripping onto the deep wound in my arm" . . . . These two photographed pieces was only edited with one editing tool: contrast, just to brighten the colours, the rest of the effects in the image were done by myself with numerous. simple materials such as: paint, make-up and mud.
Friday 21 January 2011
"Melting Rose"
A very recent photograph I took of a Black Rose melting Red, one of five photos for my latest Art Project on Dark Fantasy Tales.Wednesday 19 January 2011
Tuesday 18 January 2011
Monday 17 January 2011
"Silver Mercy" written by myself, 2007, recently edited
“Coal no”!
“It wasn’t like that”.
“Liar”! The dark crimson liquid seeped through my fingers which were gripping onto the deep wound in my arm. Though immortal, only one material could cause such excruciating pain; silver. Another jerk from his wrist, and he sent the chain whipping through the air, stroking my cheek. Not close enough to cause too much damage, but powerful enough to push me onto my back leaving me scrambling to get up.
“Coal”! Sophia wept from behind him. Her long silvery blonde hair, similar to her brothers, now damp and dancing was soaking even more from the strong currents of rain and wind whipping it across her face. Her two jagged teeth were visible underneath.
“Be silent, I will deal with you later my sister”. His voice was low and deadly. Shivers ran down my spine. The dampness of my long, red silk gown added to the chill and clung to my flesh. He turned back to me, his eyes now scarlet with rage, and his two jagged teeth long and sharp; ready to rip the flesh from my bones. I could sense his anger; smell the powerful aroma of his rage. It rippled in the howling winds; sending its’ sweet scent towards me. Scents that called out to me. To the beast inside me. No. I won’t. I can’t. Not to Coal.
Sophia sprinted, crying from the labyrinth. We were alone. Coal inched towards me, the silver dagger in his right hand, and the chain from the ancient well in his left.
“I can explain...” But before I could he brought the chain back to the ground, narrowly missing my dirt caked, bare and bleeding feet.
“How could you Luna”? His voice desired an answer, but the beast inside him would not let me give it, as he lunged at me again.
The beast inside me howled. Blood had been shed, my blood. I couldn’t hold it back. Before Coal could harm me any more my nails dug into his arms, forcing him to fall to the ground, bringing me with him. Coals’ silver dagger struck twice, like an asp with its’ poison. The silver burned into my stomach, and carved three inches of flesh from my already mangled arm.
We crashed into the hedges of the maze. The thorns from the black roses punctured our bare flesh. My dark hair whipped around my face, blinding me for a few dangerous seconds. Pulling my legs up, I managed to spring them and send him flying backwards.
I was panting and my eyes stung with tears as my skin burned from its’ numerous cuts and the pain felt like a thousand electric currents bursting through my body and burning my very soul. A quick glance at Coal told me he wouldn’t be bounding up very much any time soon. But with my knowledge of vampires he was surely not going to stay down forever. He lay on his side gulping in what little air his body didn’t need. The dead do not breathe. Pushing aside the steel chain and moving the silver dagger away to a safe distance, I sat and winced in pain at having my aching muscles move with such effort to ensure a werewolves’ safety. My safety.
I could feel his pain slowly easing away as his powers kicked in, and his wounds started to heal. Vampires can heal faster than any werewolf. It has also been long known of the war between the two species. I ran away from my pack many years ago, only to be taken in by the Lord of Darkness; King of vampires, and his son and daughter; Coal and Sophia. Tonight, the night I dreaded, all would be realised, and truth would be told. Tonight was my time to be welcomed into their clan.
Then things turned ugly at their sudden realisation they had a wolf cub in their midst. Young as I may be, I had not yet turned into my true form yet, so the scent of the wolf was not as distinctive on my flesh as that of an adult wolf, the strong odour of perfumes helped cover any scents on me that would alert the vampires. I had never known they were vampires when they welcomed me. My instincts after gaining this knowledge were to kill them all. But after falling for the prince, learning their ways, and acknowledging they were no different from my own species in moral values. I couldn’t.
Coals’ chest heaved, he coughed, spitting out black blood. I whispered his name and moved swiftly yet painfully to his side. The rage was gone from him, his eyes were back to those two glowing emeralds of beauty and his energy was slowly draining.
He wept. Not from the eyes, but from the soul. His heart was being ripped. What little heart he had gained since we met. It is very rare for a vampire to gain a soul, only those shown the true beauty of things and who can feel a tiny sliver of emotion can gain a little. But it was more than hope or faith he saw.
I held his head on my lap but he turned himself away from me. He couldn’t look at me. I had lost him. Because of who I am I had lost what I feared I would eventually. My heart screamed. He slid from me and onto the grass. The rain was pouring slowly down his pale cheek.
I looked up at the glowing silver of the moon. I had lied. I had lied to myself, to my people, to Sophia, the king and most horrendously I had lied to Coal. He now feels he has no reason to live. He will curl up and wither in this daunting place, and all because of me. Leaping to my feet I sprinted further and further into the maze, the pain and the guilt was torturing me every step I took. I stumbled and slipped on the mud, falling to the ground. Thunder roared after me, and lightning flashed before my eyes. The night’s storm was gathering up speed.
I reached the centre. The tall silver statue, its black roses and thorn-coated vines twisting and turning in every direction hugged the tall angel in a sickeningly loving embrace. This is how I shall end it. Giving myself to this tall angel of mercy, embracing him in a loving act of surrender and sacrifice. If I didn’t end things on my own terms someone else surely will, the king would have my head. I had committed treason of the worst kind to my own kind. A crime which would deserve the spilling of my blood.
The moon was now taking full control over me. Its power so radiant and soothing, making me want to surrender to her. Tonight was also supposed to be my time to finally change, as soon as I turned eighteen and the moon was full in her glorious beauty.
I was close to transformation, but I no longer wanted to become the beast. Bounding onto the stone base, I wrapped my arms around the tall, silver wing on the left of the glorious being. Closing my eyes, I attempted to end my immortal life using this welcoming figure, the thorns doing as little more damage than I already had.
“Luna”!
I felt my arms being ripped from the doorway of death, I was pulled backwards. Too strong were the arms holding onto my waist as they heaved me back away from my silver angel of mercy.
Coal. His face loomed over me, his eyes weeping at the irreparable damage I had already done. The pain eased away to a drowsy cloud before my eyes. It was so inviting and comfortable that I let it envelope me.
I looked down at my body, the damage I had done. The silver had melted my flesh in that short amount of time, completely ripping piece of flesh and muscle from my body. There was a lot of blood, I could no longer tell it apart from my red gown. I didn’t feel it though.
“Luna stay with me”, Coal shook me being careful though not to hurt me anymore.
I breathed my last breath; my heart thumped its last beat. He will be safe without me. He will be a hero in their midst when assumptions he had caused my death poured through the community. No one’s ever heard of a suicidal werewolf. I closed my eyes and left the world wishing I had a second chance, and hoping in another life we will meet again. Luna may be dead, but her soul isn’t. . . . . .
“It wasn’t like that”.
“Liar”! The dark crimson liquid seeped through my fingers which were gripping onto the deep wound in my arm. Though immortal, only one material could cause such excruciating pain; silver. Another jerk from his wrist, and he sent the chain whipping through the air, stroking my cheek. Not close enough to cause too much damage, but powerful enough to push me onto my back leaving me scrambling to get up.
“Coal”! Sophia wept from behind him. Her long silvery blonde hair, similar to her brothers, now damp and dancing was soaking even more from the strong currents of rain and wind whipping it across her face. Her two jagged teeth were visible underneath.
“Be silent, I will deal with you later my sister”. His voice was low and deadly. Shivers ran down my spine. The dampness of my long, red silk gown added to the chill and clung to my flesh. He turned back to me, his eyes now scarlet with rage, and his two jagged teeth long and sharp; ready to rip the flesh from my bones. I could sense his anger; smell the powerful aroma of his rage. It rippled in the howling winds; sending its’ sweet scent towards me. Scents that called out to me. To the beast inside me. No. I won’t. I can’t. Not to Coal.
Sophia sprinted, crying from the labyrinth. We were alone. Coal inched towards me, the silver dagger in his right hand, and the chain from the ancient well in his left.
“I can explain...” But before I could he brought the chain back to the ground, narrowly missing my dirt caked, bare and bleeding feet.
“How could you Luna”? His voice desired an answer, but the beast inside him would not let me give it, as he lunged at me again.
The beast inside me howled. Blood had been shed, my blood. I couldn’t hold it back. Before Coal could harm me any more my nails dug into his arms, forcing him to fall to the ground, bringing me with him. Coals’ silver dagger struck twice, like an asp with its’ poison. The silver burned into my stomach, and carved three inches of flesh from my already mangled arm.
We crashed into the hedges of the maze. The thorns from the black roses punctured our bare flesh. My dark hair whipped around my face, blinding me for a few dangerous seconds. Pulling my legs up, I managed to spring them and send him flying backwards.
I was panting and my eyes stung with tears as my skin burned from its’ numerous cuts and the pain felt like a thousand electric currents bursting through my body and burning my very soul. A quick glance at Coal told me he wouldn’t be bounding up very much any time soon. But with my knowledge of vampires he was surely not going to stay down forever. He lay on his side gulping in what little air his body didn’t need. The dead do not breathe. Pushing aside the steel chain and moving the silver dagger away to a safe distance, I sat and winced in pain at having my aching muscles move with such effort to ensure a werewolves’ safety. My safety.
I could feel his pain slowly easing away as his powers kicked in, and his wounds started to heal. Vampires can heal faster than any werewolf. It has also been long known of the war between the two species. I ran away from my pack many years ago, only to be taken in by the Lord of Darkness; King of vampires, and his son and daughter; Coal and Sophia. Tonight, the night I dreaded, all would be realised, and truth would be told. Tonight was my time to be welcomed into their clan.
Then things turned ugly at their sudden realisation they had a wolf cub in their midst. Young as I may be, I had not yet turned into my true form yet, so the scent of the wolf was not as distinctive on my flesh as that of an adult wolf, the strong odour of perfumes helped cover any scents on me that would alert the vampires. I had never known they were vampires when they welcomed me. My instincts after gaining this knowledge were to kill them all. But after falling for the prince, learning their ways, and acknowledging they were no different from my own species in moral values. I couldn’t.
Coals’ chest heaved, he coughed, spitting out black blood. I whispered his name and moved swiftly yet painfully to his side. The rage was gone from him, his eyes were back to those two glowing emeralds of beauty and his energy was slowly draining.
He wept. Not from the eyes, but from the soul. His heart was being ripped. What little heart he had gained since we met. It is very rare for a vampire to gain a soul, only those shown the true beauty of things and who can feel a tiny sliver of emotion can gain a little. But it was more than hope or faith he saw.
I held his head on my lap but he turned himself away from me. He couldn’t look at me. I had lost him. Because of who I am I had lost what I feared I would eventually. My heart screamed. He slid from me and onto the grass. The rain was pouring slowly down his pale cheek.
I looked up at the glowing silver of the moon. I had lied. I had lied to myself, to my people, to Sophia, the king and most horrendously I had lied to Coal. He now feels he has no reason to live. He will curl up and wither in this daunting place, and all because of me. Leaping to my feet I sprinted further and further into the maze, the pain and the guilt was torturing me every step I took. I stumbled and slipped on the mud, falling to the ground. Thunder roared after me, and lightning flashed before my eyes. The night’s storm was gathering up speed.
I reached the centre. The tall silver statue, its black roses and thorn-coated vines twisting and turning in every direction hugged the tall angel in a sickeningly loving embrace. This is how I shall end it. Giving myself to this tall angel of mercy, embracing him in a loving act of surrender and sacrifice. If I didn’t end things on my own terms someone else surely will, the king would have my head. I had committed treason of the worst kind to my own kind. A crime which would deserve the spilling of my blood.
The moon was now taking full control over me. Its power so radiant and soothing, making me want to surrender to her. Tonight was also supposed to be my time to finally change, as soon as I turned eighteen and the moon was full in her glorious beauty.
I was close to transformation, but I no longer wanted to become the beast. Bounding onto the stone base, I wrapped my arms around the tall, silver wing on the left of the glorious being. Closing my eyes, I attempted to end my immortal life using this welcoming figure, the thorns doing as little more damage than I already had.
“Luna”!
I felt my arms being ripped from the doorway of death, I was pulled backwards. Too strong were the arms holding onto my waist as they heaved me back away from my silver angel of mercy.
Coal. His face loomed over me, his eyes weeping at the irreparable damage I had already done. The pain eased away to a drowsy cloud before my eyes. It was so inviting and comfortable that I let it envelope me.
I looked down at my body, the damage I had done. The silver had melted my flesh in that short amount of time, completely ripping piece of flesh and muscle from my body. There was a lot of blood, I could no longer tell it apart from my red gown. I didn’t feel it though.
“Luna stay with me”, Coal shook me being careful though not to hurt me anymore.
I breathed my last breath; my heart thumped its last beat. He will be safe without me. He will be a hero in their midst when assumptions he had caused my death poured through the community. No one’s ever heard of a suicidal werewolf. I closed my eyes and left the world wishing I had a second chance, and hoping in another life we will meet again. Luna may be dead, but her soul isn’t. . . . . .
Thursday 13 January 2011
Friday 7 January 2011
Cupboard of Horror
My Cupboard of Horror, made this in 2007, god only knows where it is now, my tutor wasn't a fan of this piece but I enjoyed making it.
'Last Life of the Soul' written by myself
I dream of raindrops turning into crystals
Dripping into a pool of melted gold
I hear the whispers from the seashells
Their telling me they already know
I see those silver lights
Burning bright
Dropping from the skies
Is someone hiding from me
To see, I try
Pushing through the shadows
Open up my eyes
I see a tiny star
Burning brightly white
My last life has ended
My soul to bear
A journey completed
I'm finally there. . .
Thursday 6 January 2011
Shoe/Ponytail/Paintbrush
An ink drawing I created inspired by the circle of creation but with a random input.
Dream Castle
A castle made up of random objects in a dream land, I created this piece on paper using Indian Ink and dip pen.
"Gift" written by Myself
I watched my tears as they came together in a shiny, wet miniature pool on the black, mahogany table, biting into my fist trying not to scream out. It burnt like the embers of hell, licking at the skin on the right side of my back.
‘Hold on sweetie it’s almost over’, my grandmother cooed holding me down so I wasn’t tempted to get away. ‘Be quick India the poor girls suffering’.
‘I’m trying but I can’t get it wrong you know that’. I felt a hand stroking my hair, my grandmothers, it helped relax me and I stopped trying to arch my back.
‘It pains me to do this when their still young but this, this is just cruelty. Sadistic Gods, having a good laugh you bastards?’ This last sentence she aimed at the ruling Gods of the elements which my people believed in, and worshipped. It was them that chose our fate, mine happened to be a little earlier than usual.
My head started to feel clouded and when I opened my eyes everything was out of focus. I felt the cold, wet trickle of liquid trailing down my side. I could tell straight away by its strong scent and I felt the thickness of it.
‘Almost done sweetie’, my grandmother played with my hair making me feel sleepy.
‘I’m sorry Violet but you’re going to feel a slight sting’, I heard a spray from the nozzle of liquid then I felt the sting. I released a whimper but my grandmother was fast pushing me back down as I tried to get up.
I was seven when the Gods marked me, the usual age was between eleven and sixteen, but I guess I must have angered the Gods in a past life that they felt the need to punish me in my next.
I can’t remember much from being marked with my sacred symbol, no-one’s is ever the same. It appears in a white flash of pain when it is your time, a mark is left from the burn, but only for a limited amount of time, as it will disappear and your path to the Gods will be broken.
The Inker in our clan is a woman who goes by the name India, after her passion and talent for creating beautiful images out of her preferred material; Indian ink. Her gift was of the marker, she senses when it is time for someone to be marked and has the utensils that only she can use, after the Gods led her on a treasure hunt around the world to find them.
India tattoos the symbol on the body of people in our clan when they become marked, my mark was the crescent moon. About a week after the mark has been filled in the gift will arise in the body, unleashing what power has been given to the possessor of the symbol.
My gift was to shift, into creatures of the night. I’m one of six shifters in our clan and the youngest so far at nineteen. A shifter can change into only three shapes, so far I am an owl and a wolf, and I have yet to discover my third shape.
A creaking of floorboards pulls me out of my day dream, or night dream, the suns definitely not up yet. I open my eyes into small slits, keeping my breathing at a normal level. I take in my surroundings, unfortunately lacking on the visual side as all I can see are shadows and a beam of moonlit floorboards, which the mysterious figure is making sure to keep out of.
I transfer my energy to my ears; the figure is keeping quiet after their blunder with the boards, although I can hear slight breathing, definitely breathing through the nose. Transfer senses to my nose, I can smell something animal. But it’s not that distinctive to say the figure is of animal kind, they’ve been near animals, a horse, hay, I smell hay. Verdict; no threat, just an annoying persistence to bug.
‘You should never sneak up on a sleeping wolf while she rests, they might bite’, I sat up patting the cover beside me for them to sit. Hunter came out of the shadows and sat next to me on the bed. ‘What’s it this time?’ I asked, I may have sounded impatient, but the situation always amused me. Hunter coming into my room at night attempting to sneak up on me was a usual thing.
‘Well I couldn’t sleep and I sensed distress coming from you’, he pulled my pillow from the side putting it behind his back getting comfortable, ‘what memory was it this time’?
‘Like you don’t already know’, I pulled my pillow back and thumped him playfully on the head. Hunter had a sixth sense with animals, and could see into their minds, and communicate with them. With me being part animal his gift also worked on me. ‘Just another excuse to come into my room at night.’ I thumped him again as he laughed and tried to take the pillow from me.
Hunter is sort of a friend, and sort of another thing, he’s complicated. With his wavy scarlet hair, and emerald eyes he’s cute, and he knows this thanks to the mind reading of animals’ thing, which works in my favours as when we communicate I can also see into his. We’re not a couple, were not anything but really good friends, because it is frowned upon for shifters to marry and mate when their true purpose is to protect those of the clan who are weaker. Although sometimes, temptation can be a cruel, sadistic bitch who lures in her victims however weak or strong they are, and I’m her favourite play toy by far.
To be continued . . . . .
‘Hold on sweetie it’s almost over’, my grandmother cooed holding me down so I wasn’t tempted to get away. ‘Be quick India the poor girls suffering’.
‘I’m trying but I can’t get it wrong you know that’. I felt a hand stroking my hair, my grandmothers, it helped relax me and I stopped trying to arch my back.
‘It pains me to do this when their still young but this, this is just cruelty. Sadistic Gods, having a good laugh you bastards?’ This last sentence she aimed at the ruling Gods of the elements which my people believed in, and worshipped. It was them that chose our fate, mine happened to be a little earlier than usual.
My head started to feel clouded and when I opened my eyes everything was out of focus. I felt the cold, wet trickle of liquid trailing down my side. I could tell straight away by its strong scent and I felt the thickness of it.
‘Almost done sweetie’, my grandmother played with my hair making me feel sleepy.
‘I’m sorry Violet but you’re going to feel a slight sting’, I heard a spray from the nozzle of liquid then I felt the sting. I released a whimper but my grandmother was fast pushing me back down as I tried to get up.
I was seven when the Gods marked me, the usual age was between eleven and sixteen, but I guess I must have angered the Gods in a past life that they felt the need to punish me in my next.
I can’t remember much from being marked with my sacred symbol, no-one’s is ever the same. It appears in a white flash of pain when it is your time, a mark is left from the burn, but only for a limited amount of time, as it will disappear and your path to the Gods will be broken.
The Inker in our clan is a woman who goes by the name India, after her passion and talent for creating beautiful images out of her preferred material; Indian ink. Her gift was of the marker, she senses when it is time for someone to be marked and has the utensils that only she can use, after the Gods led her on a treasure hunt around the world to find them.
India tattoos the symbol on the body of people in our clan when they become marked, my mark was the crescent moon. About a week after the mark has been filled in the gift will arise in the body, unleashing what power has been given to the possessor of the symbol.
My gift was to shift, into creatures of the night. I’m one of six shifters in our clan and the youngest so far at nineteen. A shifter can change into only three shapes, so far I am an owl and a wolf, and I have yet to discover my third shape.
A creaking of floorboards pulls me out of my day dream, or night dream, the suns definitely not up yet. I open my eyes into small slits, keeping my breathing at a normal level. I take in my surroundings, unfortunately lacking on the visual side as all I can see are shadows and a beam of moonlit floorboards, which the mysterious figure is making sure to keep out of.
I transfer my energy to my ears; the figure is keeping quiet after their blunder with the boards, although I can hear slight breathing, definitely breathing through the nose. Transfer senses to my nose, I can smell something animal. But it’s not that distinctive to say the figure is of animal kind, they’ve been near animals, a horse, hay, I smell hay. Verdict; no threat, just an annoying persistence to bug.
‘You should never sneak up on a sleeping wolf while she rests, they might bite’, I sat up patting the cover beside me for them to sit. Hunter came out of the shadows and sat next to me on the bed. ‘What’s it this time?’ I asked, I may have sounded impatient, but the situation always amused me. Hunter coming into my room at night attempting to sneak up on me was a usual thing.
‘Well I couldn’t sleep and I sensed distress coming from you’, he pulled my pillow from the side putting it behind his back getting comfortable, ‘what memory was it this time’?
‘Like you don’t already know’, I pulled my pillow back and thumped him playfully on the head. Hunter had a sixth sense with animals, and could see into their minds, and communicate with them. With me being part animal his gift also worked on me. ‘Just another excuse to come into my room at night.’ I thumped him again as he laughed and tried to take the pillow from me.
Hunter is sort of a friend, and sort of another thing, he’s complicated. With his wavy scarlet hair, and emerald eyes he’s cute, and he knows this thanks to the mind reading of animals’ thing, which works in my favours as when we communicate I can also see into his. We’re not a couple, were not anything but really good friends, because it is frowned upon for shifters to marry and mate when their true purpose is to protect those of the clan who are weaker. Although sometimes, temptation can be a cruel, sadistic bitch who lures in her victims however weak or strong they are, and I’m her favourite play toy by far.
To be continued . . . . .
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