HOME | DD

Description
( Once there was a pool, clear and perfect, which reflected an even more perfect being still. Yet the reflection loved its owner so much, that one day it decided to stretch its arms towards him and make him its own. The being, also in love, decided to return the embrace. Perfection has no place in this world, and both reflection and man died due to their embrace.

But when their lips brushed each other, for an instant... a second... they were one. And they were...

"Perfect" )

-----------------------------------------------

Narcissus again. When I was young, I wrote a story about him (now I am writing a new one), and those that read it either hated him badly, or loved him badly.

I guess it´s in him to provoke those contradictory feelings. I've always found the myths' Narcissus to be such an interesting and creatively inspiring figure, someone whose life would only be long and happy as long as he never knew himself.

Yet he did. because people cursed him. the world cursed him. because the gods loved him.

(narcissus never drown by foolishly thinking his reflection was someone else, of course. That's a poetic simplification. narcissus knew who he was looking at. Narcissus used a sword and bled to death by the lake. There's no such thing as softness in despair)

this narcissus in particular belongs to a story I am currently working on. there's another drawing of him in my gallery [link]

My bestest friend in the whole world (literally speaking) asked me to draw him, and I just can't say no to her.

(and yes, YELLOW AGAIN! fear, fear the upcoming colour-blindness)

materials:

+ink
+rotring .02
+photoshop 7

narcissus(c)myself

Description
( Once there was a pool, clear and perfect, which reflected an even more perfect being still. Yet the reflection loved its owner so much, that one day it decided to stretch its arms towards him and make him its own. The being, also in love, decided to return the embrace. Perfection has no place in this world, and both reflection and man died due to their embrace.

But when their lips brushed each other, for an instant... a second... they were one. And they were...

"Perfect" )

-----------------------------------------------

Narcissus again. When I was young, I wrote a story about him (now I am writing a new one), and those that read it either hated him badly, or loved him badly.

I guess it´s in him to provoke those contradictory feelings. I've always found the myths' Narcissus to be such an interesting and creatively inspiring figure, someone whose life would only be long and happy as long as he never knew himself.

Yet he did. because people cursed him. the world cursed him. because the gods loved him.

(narcissus never drown by foolishly thinking his reflection was someone else, of course. That's a poetic simplification. narcissus knew who he was looking at. Narcissus used a sword and bled to death by the lake. There's no such thing as softness in despair)

this narcissus in particular belongs to a story I am currently working on. there's another drawing of him in my gallery [link]

My bestest friend in the whole world (literally speaking) asked me to draw him, and I just can't say no to her.

(and yes, YELLOW AGAIN! fear, fear the upcoming colour-blindness)

materials:

+ink
+rotring .02
+photoshop 7

narcissus(c)myself