Weird Things To Draw Novels & Stories

Now, she sat here in the mornings, drinking the coffee he made for her—the silent, pathetic peace offering he left on the counter every day, hoping she wouldn't throw it out. He looked at the refrigerator—at the blue circular magnet holding up the three drawings. He wanted his drawing up there so badly it made his chest ache, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding desperate. "What are we drawing, Eli?" "Animals," Eli said, his small hand moving with fierce concentration. "Mrs. Yusuf said to draw our favorites." "How many do we have?" "Three." Eli pointed a small finger. "That's a brachiosaurus. That's Patterson. That's Gerald."

figuring out where I sleep. Getting lost in a children's movie I haven't seen since my youth was a nice escape. I almost beat Liam to be the first to sleep, my head falling to the side every few scenes. Thoughts from the day fall back into my head as I replay the afternoon. So much blood. To keep my mind occupied, I gather up the spilled crayons from the coffee table and shove them back in the box. Next I line up all the paper into a nice little pile, taking a second to scan each drawing. The pages are filled with images of trees and fish. One I'm pretty sure is a zombie walking a dog downtown Main Street. Typical five-year-old drawings, I assume.

I actually lied about not being able to draw because drawing was one activity that fueled the demons in me. I didn't lie when I said the only thing I drew was nude. For three years, I was chained, abused, and forced to draw dirty, depraved art. Men fucking animals, trees, and children. More often than not, they were still life. I hated drawing. The very art I loved the most.

Why would I have such twisted thoughts suddenly? I shook the thoughts from my head, opening the notebook. The first thing I’ve noticed was the word ‘bitch’ , but a funny drawing captured my eyes, a laugh escaped my lips. “Andy can be childish sometimes” I mumbled, looking at the witch with green eyes and red hair she drew just below the word ‘bitch’. I started to turn pages, narrowing my eyes as I glanced at the sketches. This girl has a horrible talent when it comes to drawing, I smiled, turning pages once more, I stopped when I noticed a poem.

It's just my bed and some of the things I've left in here such as some of my old books, my school projects, my puzzle boxes, and scattered puzzle pieces on my old study table. I sat on the chair and opened the compartment under the table. I was surprised to see the stories I've written when I was in high school as well as my sketchpads where I attempted to nurture my drawing skills even if I really suck in that field. I opened it and chuckled when I saw how gross Pikachu have become in my drawings. There's also a portrait of someone I guess I saw on F******k who is as gorgeous as barbies but in my drawing, she looked like a dying zombie who hasn't devour any human since she has turned into o

I pour the coffee and bring both cups upstairs to sit in my room. Once I'm situated comfortably in my desk chair, I pull out my sketchbook. I'm currently drawing a picture of the lake and pond I've just walked through. There's something about it that makes it so perfect and soothing to draw. It takes a few minutes before I'm able to finish my drawing. When I do, I carefully close my sketch book. I then open the laptop and browse through F******k. I see that there's a lot of news articles about the accident. Some articles are about what happened, others are talking about other stuff related to it.

They stood by the door, probably hoping Sibil would trip over something. The house—or rather, the shack—was a disaster. It was dirty, like it hadn’t seen a broom or a mop in centuries. Dust and cobwebs decorated every corner. And worst of all, the walls were covered in naked drawings of female wolves. Some were funnh, while others were borderline creepy. There were wolves posing, wolves lounging, wolves batting their eyelashes. I felt my stomach turn. “Oh my gods,” I gagged, stepping back from the mess. “What is wrong with you? This is how you live? And these drawings, what is this? Some kind of weird wolf shrine?”

"It's missing both ears." I watch as he picks up the stick this time and makes on the sand, two medium sized 'c's on both sides of the drawing. We both tilt our heads to the left at the same time and stare at the drawing on the sand. One of the eyes are way bigger than the other and the nose seems to be falling out of proportion, the shape of the head looks like that of an amoeba while the ears he just drew isn't fully connected to the face. "I think it's phenomenal," He says.

However, I focus more on art, even though that’s regarded as a weird hobby by many. There…it’s not a lie now, right? NovellWarrior: Hey, art is not weird! If I could draw myself, I’d be even greater than whoever painted the Mona Lisa! It’s good to know that you’re an artist, and even if it is weird, there’s space for honest weirdos in my book club.

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.