"Weary Wanderer -- You've No Fight Left To Fight. No Life Left To Live!"

"Weary wanderer -- you've no fight left to fight. No life left to live!"

Won't do anything more with this, but I liked the idea of it enough to share!

Oop

listen. aging into your thirties rocks. yes your joints get a little creaky. yes you can’t sleep in a pretzel on the floor anymore after a concert or a convention. and you lose some friends. but the thing is that you sort out who your real friends are and you sort out who you really are. and you get to see your friends settling into careers they like, and adopt new dogs and cats, and you find a job you can stand, and get really good at arts and crafts, and maybe that book you loved as a kid gets a movie deal and it doesn’t suck, and you learn to like new food and bake your own bread, and you realize that the great portfolio of self harm scars you all used to curate are going white with age and not updated, and half your friends are a different gender now and so much happier and maybe you are too, and you know who you are, and that it’s a journey and not a revelation. it’s a direction you’re headed, and you’re enjoying the trip.

reaching your 30′s rocks. and i’m hearing good things about what comes next, too.

A moment of rest ✨

So happy to finally show off my final piece for the Tome of Pacts zine I feature in.

This is Hagne, the Herald of Rot, and faithful servant to her Patron, Cicardia. Her look was inspired by several things -- death masks, pomegranates, worn bronze, flies and centipedes. The butterflies she carries feed on death and decay. Hagne herself felt the cold embrace of the grave, but was blessed to find herself given another chance. She will not fail.

I am so honored to have been a part of this project, and this is one of my favorite pieces to date. I hope you guys enjoy it as well. :)

A little Xel'ia/Estinien thing I'm working onnn