Category: Paintings


Emily

Emily

This is the sketch Em did of Kyra’s sister as she imaged she would look (at the moment in the chapter below) if she had lived. Many thanks to my dear Beautiful Soul, aka Oliviah, for allowing me to use her as reference for the likeness of Emily and to include it as part of the story. Many, many thanks my dear sweet friend.

Categories: Story, Paintings

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In the Valley

John shares a few photos with Rog. Early days in flight school.

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Rog, Paintings

Sam

Em’s sketch of Sam

Categories: Story, Emy, Paintings

My Dear Chatelaine

Mairi: +Hey, can you hear me?+

Dr. X: +Aah, my dear chatelaine, I thought you had forsaken me. Please accept my not quite so humble apologies.+

Mairi: +Sorry. We’ve had a bit of drama. Besides, you know they won’t let me see you. Just getting close enough to tickle your immeasurable neurons has been a challenge.+

Dr. X: +I know. Won’t let me see anyone. Such primitive tactics would amuse me if they weren’t so sad and pathetic. You would think they had forgotten I can surf, at will, the dull waves of their backward pea-sized brains. Quite boring really. The dullards seem not to have an original thought between the lot of them. Then again, perhaps that’s their plan. Torture me with boredom. Now you, my dear, well, you stimulate me in ways I’ve never imagined.+

Mairi: +The feeling is mutual my good doctor. You’ve opened doors I never knew existed, doors never far from my mind, not to mention a few other parts.+

Dr. X: +Tell me about this drama. I sense on the edge of your wicked mind, opportunity.+

Mairi: +Could be. I still feel as a child with these new abilities but I can’t help my mind returning again and again to you and Yul. Dreams and visions, the two of you, not clear, yet, how do I say it, almost destined.+

Dr. X: +The drama, dear chatelaine?+

Mairi: +Oh, yes. Yul has a terminal disease, so say the doctors here. Her condition is worsening and they plan to operate in the next couple days. Seems they still feel at a lost as to what good they can do. I feel the procedure could be nothing more than a live autopsy.+

Dr. X: +I see. Have you seen her charts?+

Mairi: +No. Why do you ask?+

Dr. X: +Request the charts. All of them. If they say no. Demand them and demand a detailed explanation. They’ll relent, trust me. Now, very important, keep your eyes on each chart, making sure you read every line, every detail. And have them explain everything twice.+

Mairi: +I’m not a doctor. Won’t know the first thing about what I’m seeing.+

Dr. X: +But I am my dear.+

Mairi: +Oh.+

Categories: Story, Dr. X, Mairi, Paintings

NotYul or Pieces of Me

“Yul, I’ve got something I need to say,” said Rog. “I’m not sure why I didn’t say this sooner, but, well—“

Yul sat up, opened her teary eyes and smeared her little fists across her face. “Rog, before you say anything, there’s something you need to know.”

“Baby—“

“Let me finish.” Rog sat up and Yul summoned her courage in what was only a second but seemed to both like a minute or more. “My name is not Yul.”

If Rog was a clock, he just stopped ticking; as he would later say, for one of the few times in my life, I had no response. He knew all was not right with her past and that she was not the one that was suppose to be on Bravo and had concluded that perhaps some sort of foul play was involved, something that Yul felt the need to hide, or at least not disclose. He had made peace with that picture. This name thing, however, caught him off-guard and his heart sank as if those five words had moved his peg back to the starting line.

“Rog?” Yul snapped her fingers. “I’m right here baby. Talk to me.”

“Sorry, Yu–.” Rog hesitated, hoping something intelligent would pop in his head, like real fast. “Okay, let me say two things.” Then he hesitated and rubbed his jaws as if they were rusty and needing oil, as if the rubbing would loosen his sticky hinges of articulation.

“Okay, whenever you are ready,” said Yul, filling the uncomfortable silence with a tone tinged with fear not unfamiliar. She rarely opened herself up because the few times she had, instead of love and understanding, she was judged and convicted. The pain of self-righteous condemnation was not a feeling she wanted to ever experience again. As Rog hesitated, she braced herself like one on the ground expecting to see the foot and not the hand.

“First, I don’t care what your name is, the person I see in front of me and the person I have come to know and love does not change with a label. Good milk is good milk, my dad used to always say, and don’t ever let no salesman convince you otherwise.”

Yul tried to laugh. “What the hellocks does that mean?”

Rog smiled that smile that only he could. “It means I love you, not your name, not your past, not my idea of who I think you are. I love you Yu–, or, well, crap, I forgot my second question. Not that it matters, but, what is your name?”

“I was called Alyssa, or Aly for short. Yul is my identical twin sister’s name.”

“You have an identical twin sister?”

“Stop it. I know that look. I’m serious Rog.”

“I know you are baby, but an identical twin. Give me a minute.”

“Imagine all you want, she was nothing like me. In fact, quite the opposite.”

“Sooooo . . . ?” (said slowly and softly as if he was tip-toeing through a minefield)

“So, you want to know why I’m onboard and she isn’t?”

“Yes. No. I mean . . . “

“Spit it out.”

“I mean yes, I want to know the story, but no, it don’t matter. As I said, what is done is done and that doesn’t change good milk to bad.”

“Her name was on the manifest. So, I assumed it.”

“I figured as much. You don’t have to share with me why if you don’t want to.”

“Ranch boy, it’s not a matter of want as much as need. You deserve to know and I need to walk to the edge and face an old fear. So I reckon, as you might say, we have a mutual interest.” Yul reached out and took Rog’s hands as she leaned forward. “But I need to ask you one thing first?”

“Sure.”

“When I fall, will you catch me?”

Rog smiled with eyes like full moons sitting on the horizon of his rising cheeks. “I think I can answer that question in one word: abso-frailing-lutely!”

And so Yul began to talk, and a lightness she had never felt came upon her as if each piece of her story was a rock taken from her shoulders, presented to Rog, and laid upon the floor.

Categories: Story, Rog, Yul, Paintings

At Valla

Kyra at Valla

Sometimes you work and work and work and realize you are probably trying too hard. All four versions of the above sketch were done with the same reference photo. All four had the same goal–capture the magic in the reference as close as possible. Maybe they could be sisters but they sure don’t look like the same person–LMAO.

Commentary: At Valla

Categories: Story, Kyra, Sketches, Paintings

John

John Discovery aka Johnny Disco

Commentary: John

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Sketches, Paintings

Caitlin

Commentary: Caitlin

Categories: Story, Caitlin, Paintings

Eye of Yul

Commentary: Eye of Yul

Categories: Story, Yul, Paintings

Papa

Zeke

Categories: Story, Zeke, Papa, Paintings