Art!

I have recently acquired this Tumblr account and intend to post some of my random paintings from throughout my school life. I also write short stories. Thank you.

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Honestly same.

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This was created to spite my professor at the time, because, “Yes, I can do poses other that torso up. I just don’t want to.”

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Inspired by my sister, who never. ever. forgets.

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North Dakota

The road stretches before us. A single straight line going on for miles and miles with nothing interesting to look at. Except for one spot in the distance, a blob just off the side of the road that get clearer and clearer the closer we get. Soon the blob grows a head, then arms and legs, then I can tell that the blob is moving in the same direction as we are. Mare slows down the car as we near the blob. The blob as it turns out, is a girl. “Did you need some help?” Mare asks rolling down the window near the girl. The girl looks at us, her mouth set into a hard line. She glances behind the car, then into the distance in front of us. “I - I guess I could use a ride to the next town.” She gets into the back seat, setting her bag in the center and sitting next to the window. She rolls it down. Mare starts moving again, the sun is just starting to rise out. “So where you headed?” Mare asks, glancing at the girl through the review mirror. “I’m not really sure, just somewhere......else.” We wait a minute, wondering if she’ll elaborate but she doesn’t. She hasn’t even looked at us, only at the passing landscape in the distance. Another minute passes. “Are you running away?” I ask. Mare glares at me and the girl briefly glances my way before looking back out the window. A minute passes. “No, I’m not running away. Not really.” Another minute goes by as the girl watches the sun begin it’s slow ascent. “Not really.” I repeat. Now I’m looking out the window, squinting my eyes at the bright sun. “I’m on a journey. I’m hoping to find somebody.” I give up looking out the window, instead choosing to look at the endless road in front of us. “Oh” I say. We drive on for a bit longer before a sign informs us about a town a few miles out. “Is this where you wanted to go?” Mare asks, eyes firmly fixed to the road ahead. “Yes.” Another minute of silence and the turn off for the town pops into view. we turn off and roll into some diner. The girl rolls up the window, grabs her bag and opens the door. Before she shuts it, she turns to us, and says, “Thank you for driving me here, I’m not sure I- never mind. Thanks.” She slams the door and starts to walk away. I roll down my window as Mare begins to drive away and shout to the girl, “I never asked your name!” She turns to look at us as were driving off and shouts back, “South Dakota!” 

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Pt. 3 of my SoS series “Sin to It”

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Pt. 2 of my SoS series “Blah, Blah, Blah” 

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The first in my SoS (Sort of Salty) series. 

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South Dakota

The sun has set and with no streetlamps to light the way everything is dark. Too dark. Which is why Mare stopping to pick up a strange boy on the side of the road is strange in itself. How did she see him? I was literally looking out the window in his direction and I didn’t even see him. He is smiling as he climbs into the backseat, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hair mussed from the supposed wind outside. I look at him curiously as he slides into the center seat in the back and buckles himself in. He notices me staring. His previous smile grows even brighter, “Hi! My name is South Dakota. I really can’t thank you enough for letting me hitch a ride with you.” Mare hums in acknowledgement as she gets back onto the road. “What were you doing out there in the dark?” I ask him after a moment. The car hits a small bump. “I was actually looking for someone. My car broke down a while back and I just started walking, hoping I’d find either a town or someone to help me out. Luckily that second part came true or else I would have been walking the whole night in the dark!” He laughs, which is a nice sound to hear in this car, which up until we picked up South Dakota, had been quiet. He levels his gaze back on me and asks, “What are you two doing driving down this way? It’s not exactly a road leading to something.” “Were just passing through.” He nods at my answer and leans back into his seat. Another beat of silence, then I turn back to him, ”If you don’t mind me asking, who was it you were looking for?” He shifts a little in his seat, his hair falls into his eyes. “My missing half.” He leans forward. “In my old town there was this kind of legend, it said that in this world there is one person out there who was meant for you in both body and soul. Unfortunately this other half would be hidden away from you, and the only way to know who this other person would be was to see if they had a mark on their body that matched yours. I’ve actually been looking for my other half for awhile now and I figured it would be easier to go out into the world to find them then just sitting still and waiting.” He looks back up at me eyes shining. “I feel like I’m so close to finding them. To finally meeting this person who completes me.” The car hits another bump. “Do you think it’s silly to want to be with someone you’ve never even met before?” He asks. A long moment of silence fills the car. The darkness outside is beginning to fade as night slowly turns to day. “No” South Dakota and I both startle at Mares answer. “I think wanting can be a good feeling, something that drives you to a goal you never thought you could achieve.” Another bump, another beat of silence. “You can let me out here” South Dakota says, “There’s a fork in the road and I don’t think we’re headed in the same direction.” His smile is still brilliant, but it seems a little less somehow. “Are you sure you don’t want us to drop you off in town?” Mare asks. “No I don’t want to derail your road trip, you have important places to be don’t you?” He isn’t wrong. Mare pulls off to the side of the road, and South Dakota slides out of the seat, duffel bag in hand. He leans on the open door for a moment before smiling at us, “Thank you for the ride, it was nice to chat with you two. Hope you get where you need to.” With that he pats the bag at his side and shuts the door. Mare doesn’t move for a moment and we watch the boy head down the road. We wait until he’s just a speck in the distance before turning back onto the road and heading in the other direction. Driving as the sky begins to turn pink with dawn.

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Why I ever thought having two nearly identical accounts is beyond me.

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Nebraska

When I woke up I was in Nebraska. Underneath me was a cheap oriental red rug that you find in every hardware store, it was soft. Above me was a tall wooden ceiling with beams checking across it for structural support, it was dusty. In front of me was a hallway with three different doors; one on the left side, one on the right side, and one at the very end. With very little options I rose up from the floor and made my way toward the hall and opened the door on the left. It was locked. I make my way to the door down at the end of the hall, it opens into a large master bedroom with a single master bed and nightstand. Closing the door behind me I walk to the nightstand, hoping there might be something inside. A flashlight maybe. It’s locked. With nothing else in the room to check I go back through the door. Instead of leading back to the hallway however I find that I am now in a small bathroom. The toilet lid had been nailed shut, the sink looks like a sculpture with acrylic flowing from the faucet into the basin, creating the illusion of a liquid shell. The mirror shows the master bedroom instead of my reflection. I step back through the door and see that I’m now in a child’s bedroom. The door behind me is gone and the only way out seems to be through the closet, which is piled high with various toys. The toys have been melted together, which is impressive considering how many of them are not even made of plastic or metal. Climbing over the massive mound I drop into a pantry of sorts. There are cans and bags of pasta stacked high on every shelf and firmly glued down. I brace myself when I open the door but it turns out the lead to the kitchen, or at least a kind of a kitchen. It looks more like a kitchen you would find in a restaurant with the industrial stoves and ovens, and the long counters used for prepping the food. There are two doors on either end of the kitchen, one leading towards the back and one towards the front. Knowing it probably doesn’t matter which one I choose I head for the one towards the back. Back in the first room. I try the door on the left, it opens back into the kitchen. I go through the front door this time and find myself on a second story balcony overlooking the first room. There is no second floor in this house. I go back though the door and end up in the child’s room. This time there is a door, I take it and I’m back in the first room. It’s the right door’s turn. I turn the knob and I’m back in the master bedroom. This is ridiculous. Pantry, child’s room, bathroom, kitchen, pantry, first room, balcony, master bedroom, bathroom, first room. Over and over I open the doors only to wind up in some random room. Exhausted I lie back on the rug staring up and the dusty ceiling, watching the dust motes float through the air catching the light. I close my eyes and when I open them I’m in the car, driving far far away from Nebraska.

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Iowa

Trav_ling thro_gh th_ diff_r_nt stat_s I’ve fo_nd many strang_ and b_a_tif_l things. _nfort_nat_ly not _v_rything I’ll _nco_nt_r  will  b_  b_a_tif_l  and  th_ strang_ will transform into som_thing l_ss  pl_asant and mor_ annoying. Such as th_  cas_  with Iowa. S_r_  it looks  b_a_tif_l  and  sc_nic  wh_n  looking  thro_gh th_  car windows and  th_  air is  th_  clean_st  in all of the world and it’s th_ most _co-fri_ndly  _topia to dat_,  b_t  it’s stat_  r_l_  is som_thing to loath. Som_wh_r_ in Iowa’s long long history, som_  g_n_ral  with too m_ch stat_  prid_  d_cid_d  that th_  vow_ls  _ and _  w_r_  _nn_c_ssary  sinc_  th_  gr_at stat_  of Iowa didn’t hav_  th_m in it. Small bl_ssings for th_ fact tha t h_  didn’t r_strict  th_  r_st of  th_  spok_n  lang_ag_  to th_  l_tt_r ‘W.’ So now all who trav_l  thro_gh  Iowa ar_  forc_d  to d_ciph_r  anything writt_n  witho_t  th_  h_lp of arg_ably on_  of the most  _s_ful  l_tt_rs  in th_  lang_ag_, and trying to _nd_rstand  th_ locals  j_st  l_av_s  mor_ q__stions than answ_rs. “How do th_y mak_  that static so_nd in th_ir throats?” “Can anyon_ born h_r_   _v_n prono_nc_  th_  so_nds  _and_  mak_?” “Do th_y  _v_n  r_m_mb_r that _and_  _xist?” I tr_ly wish I co_ld  hav_  _njoy_d my tim_   h_r_ in Iowa mor_,  b_t this is on_  plac_  I won’t f__l  bad for wh_n  th_ past shows up and transforms it into what_v_r th_ past do_s. I’m sorry Iowa.    

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Minnesota

I’ve always hated being cold, but never having really experienced snow I can’t help but admire it. So white and fluffy, piling up into massive trenches that reach so high you can only see a stripe of sky above. The people who live here in Minnesota must be extremely hardy to be able to survive in this cold winterland, that or they’re too stubborn to leave. I suppose they have a good reason to stay despite the snow, they were here first after all. I can only imagine how the land used to look, the trees being the highest points in the sky, the houses and buildings visible from multiple vantage points, seeing people walking around and going about their day instead of the white walls siding the single lane roads with the occasional trench worker maintaining the massive ice walls. Now all that can be seen is snow, from the small clearings cut into the land for houses and businesses to the roads connecting those small reprieves from the ice. The people here may be stubborn for going along with the extreme migration patterns of the snow and it’s persistence on staying, but I can see why they love this place. The snow is beautiful, which makes Minnesota all the more beautiful, for however deep their trenches might be the people will remain. 

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Precious House Baby

Watching Amityville Horror and its so funny. The house be like, "You thought that was scary? Well check this shit out!" Then the walls start bleeding. Classic house shenanigans.

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Wisconsin

There’s something following me. I can’t see it, but out of the corner of my eye I can see movement. A shadow. Something. At the gas station I was sitting in the car watching the people coming and going and I saw it. That quick movement shooting behind the building as soon as I tried to focus on it. Sitting at the restaurant I saw it slip into the bathrooms before I could catch it. Everywhere I am it’s also there, just out of sight, dancing away in the corner of my vision. It’s driving me crazy. I know it’s there and it has to know that I know it’s there but it still refuses to show itself. I’ve asked around but nobody seems to know what I’m talking about and they just give me these blank looks and walk away. Everyone seems to have these blank looks, unfocused. They’re all very friendly of course just, distant, except for this one resident I passed by earlier. He approached me saying how he had heard I was asking if anyone saw anything strange. “Stop asking these people questions they can’t answer.” He said to me. “Why can’t they answer?” I had asked in a completely level manner. His face then paled considerably and he just stared at me. “Because of Wisconsin” he then looked over his shoulder with a scared face and ran away. I could see that thing flitting around the corner where that man had been staring. So that’s what he had been talking about. I wonder if Wisconsin will be strong enough to fight against the past, or if it will just hide and let the past destroy it. Either way I’ll be long gone from this place.

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Michigan

The early morning light reflects off of the Michigan waters. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say off of Michigan itself, seeing as how all of Michigan is submerged underwater. Were traveling along the great Michigan bridge, a huge structure engineered and built to cross over the immense body of water and boasted to be strong enough to stay standing for a thousand years without need of repair or maintenance. It would seem the claims are true seeing as it’s been 990 years since it was first built and the bridge still gleams and shines as brilliantly as it did when it was new, or so I’ve heard. Looking over the bridge I can just make out the spire from the top of the Great Michigan Tower, the tallest building in the world standing at 3,200 feet. Must be low tide. I wonder what Michigan must be like under all that water, how the people live, if there even are people down there. Maybe the people down there think the same about us up here, wondering if that bridge they built is still standing. It really is a nice bridge. I might have a thing for bridges. Looking out over Michigan I can see a whale breaching, good to know there are still whales in Michigan. I like the seabirds that line the bridge cables: puffins, gannets, auks, terns, fulmars, and just about every gull you could name. They’re so cute as they fly to and fro, diving into the waters, trying to catch their dinner. Animals are so fascinating, I’m glad I finally get to see them in real life. I hope Michigan doesn’t take too much damage from the past, the tranquility is truly something to behold and something that I will surely miss when we leave. 

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“Legend of Farfalla“ Unfortunately this piece is missing a very important element, the hundreds of origami butterflies I made to surround her like a cloud! It’s sad to say they were all lost to human error (I misplaced them and they got thrown away) but what remains of the piece is still good right?

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Indiana

There is nothing here in Indiana, just a road and the starry night sky above. After the Hoosier Grounds War everyone left this place. It was an intense battle between the native Indianans and the very ground they called home that lasted for five years. It was a vicious back and forth between the two, where the Hoosiers would plant seed, the ground would refuse to grow it. The ground would rumble and shake and the Hoosiers would walk all over it. They were evenly matched, that is until the Hoosiers struck a deal with the sky. On that day the sky rolled over Indiana and began to rain. At first it was just a sprinkling, but soon the rain fell harder the drops became fatter and the ground was soon overwhelmed by the vast amounts of water. The Hoosiers had won. It was a bittersweet victory though, yes they had destroyed the ground with the help from the sky, but they had also destroyed all the was Indiana. It was inhospitable, nothing could grow or live there anymore. There was nothing left for them in Indiana, at least not on the surface. With no where else to go they asked the sky for help, begged the sky to take them in, and it did. So all the Indianans left for the sky bringing nothing with them except the clothes on their backs and their hope for a new beginning. Some say they’re all still up there in the sky, and that the stars you see driving down the single road of Indiana are the lights from their homes and cities. Others say the sky swallowed them up and the stars are whats left of all those people forced to look down on what their war had brought them. Whatever you believe doesn’t change the fact that there is nothing left here in Indiana but a single road and a starry sky above. 

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Illinois

There’s nothing worse than being reminded of all the bad things you’ve done in life. You do every thing in your power to push and close off all of those bad thoughts but they sit there in the back of your mind simmering, waiting for the perfect moment to boil up and ruin you. Honesty is the only way to face them, at least that’s what Illinois believes. They’ve taken it upon themselves to be the epicenter of human growth, a place where those who are hurt or have hurt can repair themselves through a personalized healthcare regimen. All of Illinois was engineered to help everyone, whether you were sent here or just passing through. The only way out of Illinois is to conquer whatever it was that got you sent here and for me it’s the past. I’m alone in a room with a single chair and table. The room is square with no doors or windows and a single screen is hanging from the ceiling. On the screen are events being played out in sequential order, my life. What am I supposed to do, I already know all of these things happened and that I was the cause and that not all of them were good. Am I supposed to feel sorry for my actions? A green check mark flashes on the screen. I suppose that means I’m heading in the right direction. Now the screen is replaying only a few of the previous events: the first time I met Mare, a moment from the juice shop, the first child I ever--- No. I know where this is heading. They want me to apologize for something I won’t apologize for. I did what had to be done and I accept that it may not have been the best answer but it was mine and I will not apologize for that. The screen flashes a red X. They don’t like my answer, but their opinions do not matter. I’m done with Illinois.

Mare starts the car up when she sees me walking towards her, “What took you so long?” “I wanted to see if Illinois was all it was cracked up to be.” Mare looks at the long winding road ahead while I get in, “Was it?” There is nothing but the road and the dark sky above us, we are no longer in Illinois. “No.”