Novel & Cerita Fluffy Drawings

I carefully opened the cover, and stared. A near-lifelike portrait of Rhiannon, frail but smiling. flip A woodland scene, wonderfully detailed down to the individual blades of grass. flip A kitten playing with a toy, hair and whiskers beautifully rendered with fine little lines. flip A little girl reading, the folds of her skirt nearly photographic. I hesitated, then quickly rifled through to the final drawing. And paused, suddenly fearful. My face peered up at me from the page, perfect in nearly every detail... just prettier than I felt was strictly fair.

He caught Elena’s eyes, and she knew he’d heard every word. Lila grinned and wiggled free just long enough to grab her latest crayon drawing from the coffee table. She held it up proudly: another stick figure family — but this time, three figures stood inside a house with bright yellow windows. Flowers in the yard. A tiny fox scribbled at their feet. And above their heads, written in crooked kid letters, one word: Home. Elena pulled her daughter close, kissing her hair, her forehead, her brave, curious heart.

Nothing pulls me out of a weird mood faster than doodling. As we go through the scene for the umpteenth time, I find myself doing rough sketches of the men in front of me. None of my drawings ever look particularly realistic - my doodles have more of a cartoony, comic book style - but I'm pretty proud of how they turn out. Once I've done Omar and Mr. Grand, I move on to the person I really want to doodle - Orlando. I don't get him right the first time. Or the second. Or the third. At first I can't seem to get his hair right, but by the end it's his eyes that are giving me the most trouble. Nothing I draw can capture how startling and direct they are.

Chris laughed awkwardly, “not as much hidden talents, as working at a school and having to do art projects when I started. I can draw some animals. See if you like them?” I shrugged, “let’s see what you fucking got.” Chris went to draw some animals on a paper to show me, while the rest went to work and painted the room pink. April said it was a light pink or what ever the fuck the color is called. It was pink. Suddenly Kane came up with the brilliant fucking idea to look up templates on the computer. “What about like butterflies? Or ladybugs? Or dragonflies? Those much be easier than a whole animal?” Kane said.

“Ohh, I see. I made her something.” “Oh, really? What’s that, let me see.” He stretched out his hand, handing me a paper “Oka—y, let’s see what we have here.” I flip open the paper only to be met with the warmest, least expected image. It was a stick figure drawing of a woman with a swollen belly and a wide smile. Mama and baby were proudly written at the top of the page in crooked letters, and I immediately couldn’t help the smirk that radiated off my face.

“I’m sure she’ll remember this night for years to come.” “And come back again?” Lily asked hopefully. I pulled her into a hug, smiling into her curls. “Of course. But maybe… be a little gentler next time. Fairies don’t like being startled.” “Okay,” she said with a sweet, sleepy smile. Later, after breakfast and after cleaning up the remaining bits of fluff and yarn, I found a drawing Lily had made: a stick figure fairy with sparkly wings and a big smile. It was labeled: “Tooth Fairy (caught!!!)”

Her expression softens as she takes a step closer, her hands clasped in front of her. “My, and what do we have here” She crouches down until she's practically eye level with a beaming Kira. “It's Pinky, from my favourite cartoon. Isn't it pretty?” Kira gushes, holding up the drawing proudly. Lydia studies the drawing, her smile widening. “Nu, razve eto ne chudesno? You have done a wonderful job, Kira” (Well, isn't this just marvellous) Kira grins, “Ava helped me.”

The kind of smile that says kids tell the truth. The project task was a drawing titled ‘My Family’. Camilla worked carefully, very focused. She had drawn David first — tall. Then herself. Then Lily, smiling. She even remembered the dog, Dougy, curled in the corner with his tail wagging. She had drawn gardens around the figures, bright with flowers, and had glued yellow paper flower heads with crimson centers, all around the edges of the sheet of paper. Gardens. Three smiling people. One dog. But no me.

So that means getting going now. Having a blank page for a commission, and getting started on it, that’s two different things. After wasting most of my free period staring at a large white rectangle, I give up and start doodling in a sketchpad instead. Sketches of faces, mostly. The Pack. Imogen. Mom. The college staff. My tutor, Mrs Bird, as a Sergeant Major in a feathery rainbow uniform, strutting around bellowing orders. Jade as a crow, teaching crow martial arts to a bunch of baby crows. Mary in a Cinderella ball gown. Reese as a tiger. Tom as a warrior fairy, with dragonfly wings and a silver rapier.

Coloured chalks in hand, she is deep in concentration. The noisy chatter of the young adults as they take their seats behind her barely registering as she concentrates on the task in hand. She has already drawn the parted legs and rounded arse cheeks and was now working on the pussy lips, the outer labia. Her drawing was graphic in its anatomical correctness and state of arousal.