Realistic Carnation Drawing Novels & Stories

The painting was beyond beautiful. The deep colors of gold and blood red blended well together as faint light blue is sprinkled here and there. The painting was of a woman. Her plump blood-red lips are slightly parted as she is blinded and folded with the dark red cloth. The texture and details show cast realism in the art. Her pale hand resting on her face as the expression of the woman is a deep love of something that is far of arm's reach. The touches of gold are like shallow waves deep rich wood oak.

All she kept picturing was his cock, for some reason - how thick and heavy it felt in her hand, how perfectly it stretched her open, and the way it looked when he was hard and fully aroused. She made a small, frustrated sound before she put down the large brush and grabbed a small sketchbook instead. Her hand suddenly moved fast, almost like it was moving by itself. In just a few minutes, she had drawn a very detailed and realistic sketch of Sebastian’s cock - hard, veined, slightly curved upward, and glistening. She stared at the drawing and found herself cackling heartily. “Wow, look at how he is literally ruining my art career." -

" I assured him that I would and threw up the sign for ''I love you'' before we both ended the video call. When the call window closed, I was looking at a blank page which was supposed to be a seven-thousand word essay on the pre-operational stages of cognitive development. It was due in a week and I hadn't started on it. I rubbed my eyes which burned from staring at the screen for so long. The curtains were drawn over the windows, leaving the room dark except for the blue glow of the laptop's screen. I had been lying there for God knows how long, trying to outline the essay. But, every time I closed my eyes to think, I felt Cain's breath on my lips and his nose brushing against mine.

He reached into his bag — past the textbook with the torn cover and the pencil case that didn't close properly and the collection of small objects he kept meaning to remove — and pulled out a drawing. He held it out to his father. A figure in a black dress with butterflies around her head. The dress had careful detail,more careful than the scale of the figure really justified, the work of someone who wanted to get that part right. The butterflies were possibly the size of small horses, which was a scale issue he was aware of and had decided to commit to anyway. At the bottom, in his best handwriting, which he had been practicing specifically for this: For Miss Vale. From Cassian Ardent. I th

This isn't an outline, this is a full-blown drawing. “This is…” “A hobby I picked up, nothing interesting” He waves it off and my heart shreds up a little. I flip the next page and it's another drawing of me lifting a bloodied figurine high up above my head. My lips are pursed harshly and are painted a sharp shade of ruby red. My eyes are a different shade of brown, they look glazed over like I'm in some sort of bloodlust haze. There are specks of blood splattered all over my face and hands.

She blinked for a few seconds and watched the beautiful scene before letting her fingers do the magic. Liliana was extremely a clean artist, she was great at mixing colors and bringing life to her art almost making them realistic. The picture captured all the important details like the few small butterflies swirling around the flowers looking like bugs from a far, her smile widened when she watched the seated old couple leaning into each other's arms, she placed her head on his shoulder while he held her body near his chest watching the silent row of colorful flowers.

I decided to make a drawing for each person. So far, I have finished one for Nova, Axel, Waylon and Jessica. Since I didn’t know Lilith that well, I just drew her a big ass flower. The dimensions were very delicate work. Since Tiger Lilies are my favorite, that is what I went with. Using come bright orange, it had spots of yellow and even red in it. The stem was dark green and the middle was a dark brown. Overall, I loved this picture.

The woman in the picture was looking up at her man with a gaze of pure lust. “Holy shit,” I said. “Those are incredible!” “I guess you can tell I’m going to school as a fine arts major,” Tina said. “But I learned real quick that I couldn’t turn these drawings in to my professors without having to fend off their advances for the whole semester. So there I draw nature and classic nudes, but this is what I love to draw more than anything.” “They look so realistic,” Carrie said. “You have a real talent for this. That woman looks like she’s a photograph as opposed to art.”

Nothing about my life in the last two weeks has been either calm or serene so how the hell am I supposed to craft a masterpiece out of something I'm not even sure I recognise anymore? I peek at Cara's canvas, my eyebrows lifting in surprise as I take in her painting. Swirls of deep blues and soft greys blend together seamlessly in broad, flowing strokes. Hints of white dust over the colours, sparkling like foam and bringing the piece together. Almost. An unfinished, hazy figure stares into the horizon, the face blurred, but you can almost make out the slight calm in their expression. Cara tilts her head slightly to the side and I watch as strands of red hair fall from her bun. A smudge of bl

Walking past him, I started towards an unfinished drawing of a woman's face. "This is new." I turned around to face him. "I didn't see this last time I was here." "Yeah," he let out a soft sigh. "It's one of our final projects in school before graduation. I'm trying to make it as artistic as possible but a simple woman just seems too plain." Looking back at the painting, I study the details. Her full red lips, small pointed nose, eyes fallen shut with feathery lashes. Her skin was like a rainbow, colored in several colors. Her hands hugged her bare breast.