Sorry What

Some experimental The Chronicles of Narnia illustrations I did in my uni. I wanted to draw the most memorable landscapes from each book as I imagined them in my childhood. Tried to do some experiments with style and practice more in drawing environments¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

prints: x

How do you live up to this, you ask yourselves. How do you live up to the legend? How do you follow in your own footsteps, now much too large to fill? How do you come home when your home has lived a hundred lifetimes without you?

They look at you and see not your bodies (school child-child-too small-too fragile), but a landscape full of life and long-gone peace. They see victory, glory, a battle easily won and a gracious rule. They see salvation, legend, a golden age. 

They don’t see the scars, the unyielding prison, the shake of your breaths and the purple-bruise map of all fights and failures you come with. They don’t see the steel, the gnarled roots, the ugly mess inside your chests.

They don’t see children, and did you not wish that? Did you not wish for them to see you as you are meant to be? Why then do their eyes that see royalty without hesitation feel like chains? Why do your shoulders droop under the weight of their eager gaze?

Perhaps it is because they don’t see you as you were then. They see legends, mythology, saviours upon a pedestal of shining light, a throne they paint golden when it should be red and blue for every wound it gave you. They see idols, statues, carvings on stone walls, paintings within historical tomes. And that is not what you are, standing among them in clothes that used to fit better in another life and with promises that slide across your tongue like tar. That is not what you are.

You are claws and teeth and unsung roars. You are tear-stained screams and bloodied hands and crowns too heavy for anyone but you to bear. You are cracked marble, crumbling stone, unworked metal, burning wood. You are beautiful, regal, a coming storm, but you are not what their eyes tell them they see.

And how does one even begin to tell these desperate souls that their salvation will not be golden? That glory is not so easily achieved? That you did not sit upon your throne with clean robes and regal smiles when you became rulers of a kingdom, but stood upon a cliff in bloodied armour and torn skin and swore oaths unknown to the creatures that now call you saviours? 

So how do you tell them that you are not what they make you out to be? You don’t. You swallow down the words like molten rock and choke on that truth. They cannot help seeing the fairytales you have become in a land that hasn’t known you for a millennium. You aid them as they ask you to, and pray their dreams won’t cut them when they shatter underneath your feet.

The first Lost Boy

my singing voice is good for showers and mornings in the kitchen and drunken nights and lullabies for babies who need sleep and im okay with this

what the actual fuck was going on at this show

[x]

my point… my point is…..

dolphins

that’s my point

big brains….

size o f

?????????

damned

big brains

the lot of them

not to mention the WhALeS

brain CITY

Fluffy kitty by rover_thecat

*After announcing the three champions that will compete in the triwizard tournament, Dumbledore grabs a fourth paper that just came out of the goblet of fire*

Dumbledore: Harry Potter

Harry:

Ron:

Hermione:

Ginny:

Fred, George and Lee Jordan:

Cedric:

Fleur:

Victor:

Draco:

Gryffindors:

Hufflepuffs:

Slytherins:

Ravenclaws:

The Teachers Table:

Suzanne Collin’s just said fuck you to everyone who’s ever critiqued the Hunger Games as being a “teen girl saves the day” story. She said oh, Mockingjay didn’t make it clear enough? Here’s a book about how people have been rebelling for decades only to have their efforts suppressed and propagandized. Rebellion takes time and it takes failure and Katniss may have been the spark that ignited the wildfire but she did so standing atop the doused flames of everyone who came before her.