Hey guys,
This week I am posting some of my character sketches/studies. I really enjoy creating characters. One of my favorite things to draw is human anatomy. I really love boosting the color in people’s undertones in order to create my painting/coloring style. For lighter skin tones I start with a base of sage green, for darker skin tones I use an undertone of red or blue. I also created a new header image for this series. I feel like this frame from one of my comics fits the vibe better here. I like creating a variety of characters in order to push myself to stay away from “same face” syndrome, which is a really hard thing to overcome if you have a distinct art style. This just means that because of your style, you sort of accidentally draw the same face over and over.
I first met Priya in Social Studies in 7th grade. She was new to my middle school and my best friend had just moved away. Priya was looking to belong and I was looking for a new friend. Our union was serendipitous, and somehow taking the chance on the new girl has led to 8 years of friendship. Throughout our friendship, I could describe Priya as many things. Loyal, stylish, and kind are a few words that come to mind, but those words have changed over time. Like all of us, her identity followed the ebb and flow of adolescence. However, one word has always stuck with her and that was “creative”.
Priya was an artist in every sense of the word, always filling up sketchbooks and doodling on the side of her notes. She’d draw things in minutes that would take me at least an hour to attempt. I had the privilege, or curse depending on how you look at it, of taking many art classes by her side. She’d have a look when she was drawing. Her eyebrows would furrow and her lips would scrunch up to meet her nose. It meant she was focused, and I knew that in these moods I should let her do her thing.
Me: What kind of art do you do?
Priya: Right now, I mostly do digital. I’ve also been inking more, colored pencils, and also have been trying to learn gouache.
Me: Gouache? What is that?
Priya: It’s similar to watercolor, but it doesn’t deteriorate and doesn’t get translucent.
Me: *nodding, impressed* Nice, never heard of it.
Art is a funny thing, almost paradoxical in its definition. For that reason, I’ve been interested in what definition people give to their art.
Me: So why do you create art? What is art?
Priya: hmm…like I sit down and it’s art.
Me: *raises eyebrows* Go on.
Priya: Well one thing I love about art is that there is no right or wrong answer. Whatever your mind can think of, you can create. It belongs to you and you can be inspired by whatever. I don’t get very self-conscious about my art, because I can choose how I want it to be. People can choose to judge my work however they want, but at the end of the day the only people’s opinion that matters is mine.
“Spilling Honey” created digitally by Priya Ganji
Priya’s art focuses on what she sees in real life. While she had tried to dip her toe into more stylized art forms, she found the real world pulling at her the most. On her art Instagram you can find digital drawings of photorealistic honey, famous faces, and a lot of fruit. She takes the focus of the renaissance and brings it into now. Reminding us all to stop and take a look at the beauty of the everyday.
Me: I see your style is pretty realistic, what draws you to realism?
Priya: I’m a big fan of photography, about capturing moments and memories, and I think realism allows for that.
Me: I know you moved around a lot when you were younger, do you think that has contributed to your love for realism and photography?
Priya: *nods and laughs* yeah, I think that might have something to do with it. It’s a way of taking temporary moments and putting them into the physical world. Realism is a way I stay grounded, and that’s something I’ve had to do daily. I have to ask myself deep questions and remind myself that I am here, I am alone and at the end of the day, that’s what’s most important.
Me: So art is constant?
Priya: *nods* art is constant
Priya, aside from being an artist, is a strong advocate for immigrants in the United States. As a child, she moved around a lot and was always left uncertain when she could go back home to India and if she could, would she be able to return. Such circumstances breed a certain anxiety around uncertainty, but art doesn’t have that uncertainty for her. It provides her a place to land, a place to feel grounded.
Me: So how would you say art impacts your mental health?
Priya: I think it has a very positive impact. It helps me sort out my emotions.
Me: Is there a certain mood you are most inspired to create art?
Priya: Yeah, of course, you can ask my mom even. She says I create the best art when I’m angry. It serves as an outlet for whatever is going on inside me.
Priya’s art teaches us the importance of grounding, and the beauty in stillness, even when everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control. Think of honey about to spill from the bottle or fruit in the middle of peeling. These instances remained unfinished, ready to be unwound by time, but even still they exist in that very moment. That’s the moment Priya captures, grounding herself and the rest of us in the beauty of a sweet, simple memory.
You can find Priya and her art on her Instagram and Etsy page linked below:
Hi, my name is Tyree, and welcome to the first blog post of FOTO. FOTO will be a weekly series of videos that combine photography and poetic stories that will feature various themes such as nature, portrait stories, and more ideas that I come up with as I embark on this new journey. I wanted to share an animated intro I made for the series this week, as next week will feature the first episode. Until then, I hope you enjoy 🙂
Hey all! This past week I haven’t focused on one character so much as making a group of magical sorceress girls! I thought the Earth sorceress and the Water one already matched well in terms of art style, so I decided to create four more based on different cultures and their traditional clothing styles to make a group of powerful female characters.
You lay beside me beneath sheets painted with lavender. My chest quivers at your touch, delicate fingers navigating the curves and pitfalls felt by no one else. The sides of your mouth lift in that way that they do to make my body melt into yours. I’m in awe of you, of this moment. An array of purples and blues outline your silhouette. Flecks of stars glimmer against your skin. You graze my hands, held close to my chest. They intertwine, so close to the beating of my heart. I shudder, knowing you bear witness to all of me.
We fit perfectly, shaped by cosmic intention. A finger reaches my cheek, gliding along my skin which is now yours. You were made for me, and I pray I was made for you. The warmth under the covers sends me fluttering. I only wish that you’ll stay, that this moment could endure forever. That part of me aches. It remembers those lonely nights under twilight. No stars atop skin or sunsets to fall into. The wind carried whispers, but they weren’t yours. Before I reached your eyes and felt your lips, I would imagine you lying here—your skin on mine. Our breath intermingled like it had always been that way. That aching was black and cold and clutched at my throat. It hurt to be. I longed for you, and I pray you did too.
I frolic in the mundane
late-night grocery hunts for instant mashed potatoes
movie nights inside because it’s dreary outside
walks in the park where we see the trees we’ve seen one hundred times over
looking up at the stars, I still don’t know the name of
you outstretch to point, but I just look at you
in the firelight
It’s amazing how time slips away, however dreadful it feels in the pit of my stomach. I’ve watched your smile crease and your eyes grow wings. They are lighter than they once were, not dull but dimming. But when I look closer, there’s something unchanged. You are still you and I am still me. You still laugh at my jokes. (Badly executed with the best intentions.) My ears still perk at the melody you dance to in the kitchen. The stars that glittered still shine the same way. You are mine, and I am yours, and I will cherish you like I do every day.
When the time comes, I won’t say goodbye. It would hurt too much. To admit that you’re gone is to cease any possibility, any flicker in my heart, that there is more to be had. There are so many words unspoken, so many songs unsung, so many dances not done,
so many late nights,
early mornings
without you.
This bed is too empty, and the hole you left grows larger, a force upon sore ribs. I breathe in, but you aren’t in my lungs. Where has the lavender gone?
Editors’ Note: We have compiled multiple accounts of one Lord Eskyil, chief advisor to the King of Tokavsk, into one document. We paid special attention to similarities between multiple docutments, though we find it is the oddities that linger in our minds the most.
Lord Eskyil is a tallish man with a slim build and short dark brown hair graying at the edges. He would have a rather plain face were it not for the prominence of his nose, which resembles a beak and draws attention from the pale, roving eyes. His skin is pale and loose upon the cheeks, and his face is shaven to indicate his status. His gnarled hands are often clasped behind his back. Lord Eskyil is easily distinguished by his robe, which is a dull blue compared to the other advisors’ robes of red.
A distant individual, Lord Eskyil keeps the personal matters of his life private. As such, little is known about his marital status. Though the consensus is that he and his wife are still together, some speculate they are unlinked, meaning they live completely separate lives. He is generally regarded to be cold and even harsh, but his brutal logic is what makes him effective. He never softens his words and is considered to be ambitious by those nearest to him. Some ascribe to him the trait of brutal honesty, while others say he is adept at withholding information to get someone to do his bidding. He is not easily fooled or prone to anger, though he is not what one could call calm. Rather, he seems to exist in a state of perpetual negativity, carrying with him a slight furrow in his brow no matter the hour. It is perhaps for this reason that he has no familiar colleagues. However, by many accounts he seems satisfied by being alone and is in fact repelled by human interaction.
As for whether there is reason to believe he stands against the King, the accounts are divided. Three say he is fiercely loyal, three a man merely doing his job, two a conniving liar. The rest do not address this question at all. With consideration for recent events in Tokavsk, the verdict remains inconclusive.
