|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
EDIT: This is REALLY LONG, so feel free to search for the question you want answered by hitting Ctrl+F to bring up your browser's search function. Any and all insults contained herein are for comedic purposes only (except when I'm addressing excessively stupid people, in which case, they started it. I find ignorance offensive. Even my own). If it helps, I get tired of being cruel about a quarter of the way in, and although I'm still quite sarcastic after that, I'm at least informative. You may have better luck just looking at my tutorials. More pictures, less sarcasm.
My Drawing FAQ AKA The Long-Winded Philosophy Of Pencil Drawings
Q. Can I ask you a quick question?
A. I guess, but make it snappy. I'm pretty busy.
Q. You're just sitting there... and spinning around in your swivel chair.
A. That is not true! I'm also trying to balance a pencil on my lip. Anyway, what may be perceived as staring slack-jawed into space, or gawking at screenc
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
Keep in Touch!