Browsed by
Category: The Silver One

This is the last your world saw of dragons, over 165 years ago… Or so man say.

The Silver One – Progress, and Ursula K. Le Guin

The Silver One – Progress, and Ursula K. Le Guin

The rough width of my book so far.

This month I have been busy writing, illustrating, and designing for my book, The Silver One—as well as posting many new videos to my Youtube Channel in an effort to catch up to the present.

Though the month isn’t quite over yet, I have had a really wonderful time. It has been productive and inspiring both, in terms of the chapters I have been writing, but also in the discovery of the characters. A major block for me was not being able to let go of who they had been, for who they were becoming, and how they had changed.

The book isn’t as clean cut, nor black and white as I had imagined (though yes, it was my intent to twist these around on you in the most spectacular of ways). It has grown a lot in wisdom, and evokes a different mood and perspective on reality—one, I think, which will offer a lot of insight.

I suppose it is in this way my work has been likened to author Urusla K. Le Guin’s. Though I only discovered her work in July last year, it has touched me deeply in a manner beyond words, and she has quickly risen to become my idol of idols; someone I admire and respect greatly in her contribution to this world.

I wrote an article on that very discovery, before this website was made, which I will share below. It is deeply personal, but I suppose I have realised fame and success is an illusion, and something I would dispel to pave the way for other artists who might never have tried.

No matter how talented we are, all of us are human, and we all feel the same things.

 

 On Ursula K. Le Guin

(Dated 2016_07_29)

 

Recently I read the first two chapters of my book out to a group of complete strangers. They told me that I should look up an author called Ursula K. Le Guin, for our styles were apparently similar.

At the time I didn’t pay it any heed—how could I, in my entire life’s experience never having met an author who’s work was like my own (though I have always admired Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman, I would not say our styles are similar)? And, even if they were similar, it would only reflect to me how others saw my work, which may not at all have been how I wanted them to see it–for instance, only the violence and the tragedy, rather than the messages behind it.

Week after week these writers earned my trust, and so slowly I began to open up and read them other works I cared about, or their more experimental counterparts. Mostly I read them poetry—this being the quickest and easiest to write, when nothing else I worked on could be shared (*cough* Pandora).

People had mentioned the name to me a few more times in between, but as always it rolled off my back like water on a duck. I couldn’t admit it to myself, but I was afraid of what they saw in me, afraid that I wouldn’t like what I saw reflected back, and that it would cramp the budding style I was just beginning to find security in.

It was after one of those poetry readings that the name finally stuck, because they offered me a glimpse of how they saw me, and my work. To me they said “one day your poetry will become your writing, as it is Ursula Le Guin’s…”

That kind and insightful comment allowed me to feel the hope I had long been denying, even as my hand reached to my journal to finally write it down. From this I went strait to the local library, and borrowed A Wizard of Earthsea (the recommended book, for my love of dragons), and it was love at first sight. The blurb had been superbly written, appealing to everything I loved in stories, but what truly took my breath away was the song below:

Only in silence the word,
only in dark the light,
only in dying life:
bright the hawk’s flight
on the empty sky
~The Creation of Ea

 

Dragonlance, anyone?

Since then I have read many of her works, and fallen in love with each and every one. I love the human ark of her career, and that her books are more often than not small—that one doesn’t need to write huge volumes of epic literature in order for something to be beautiful.

I also love her insight as a person. The sheer wisdom of her words… for the first time in my life I have met someone who at once makes me feel hopeful, and at the other shows such perfection that it almost disarms my drive to write, for it exists already.

So I write now because it is fun, and that the stories I have are for this generation—and that, like always, they will be reborn and renewed as the cycle continues.

The 2-3 hour speedpainting from 2015.

To end this post, I will share with you all new illustration. It is a repaint of a later work, and one which took itself in unexpected directions.

I have been moving towards a call I have felt for a long time now, and this is towards more painterly, symbolic, expressionist art—art which tells stories, like this, this, or even this.

Silver Wing (Repaint)

I feel like I got a little bit stuck on the details of this one, but it is a step in the right direction, and piece by piece I am getting there 🙂 I might have to try a work like the ones above, I have the perfect chapter for them…

Anyway, I wish you all a wonderful January, and I will keep you posted! My plan is to write one article a month here, but I’ve been pretty busy lately (pfft, busy… what she really means is swimming with dolphins).

The Dreaming Sentinel 😉

Five Years…

Five Years…

 

Today I find myself working on a storyboard for my book, and reflecting on the journey I have been on. This was me, five years ago, when I first painted my silver dragon digitally. And now, five years later, from doing what I love, I am amazed at where I find myself.

I write this as a message for other artists, or would-be dreamers. Follow your dreams, and don’t question where you are now—because it’s the journey that makes all the difference.

Love,
The Dreaming Sentinel.

Trapped

Trapped

Time: 15 hours.

 

Though I spent far longer on this than I intended, I can see the results speak for themselves. It will make a beautiful two-page spread in my book, and I can only imagine the youth of our future who will one day come to enjoy it.

I love this so much. The colours and translucency are far more beautiful than I had imagined. All in all, this is a very sad scene, and yet it has been portrayed so exquisitely…

There is symbolism in it, and beauty in places where it is least likely to be found. I am proud, and incredibly thankful that I let my more creative side bloom and chose to follow the artistry of the piece, over realistic portrayal. She isn’t the Mareatü I had imagined, and yet she is perfect.

I hope you enjoy it to, and by it find the inspiration you need to walk your own path.

The Dreaming Sentinel.