Inktober 2019 |
Inktober was started by Jake Parker. The following is the information directly from the official Inktober website:
Every October, artists all over the world take on the Inktober drawing challenge by doing one ink drawing a day the entire month.
I created Inktober in 2009 as a challenge to improve my inking skills and develop positive drawing habits. It has since grown into a worldwide endeavor with thousands of artists taking on the challenge every year.
Inktober rules:
1) Make a drawing in ink (you can do a pencil under-drawing if you want).
2) Post it*
3) Hashtag it with #inktober and #inktober2018
4) Repeat
Note: you can do it daily, or go the half-marathon route and post every other day, or just do the 5K and post once a week. What ever you decide, just be consistent with it. Inktober is about growing and improving and forming positive habits, so the more you’re consistent the better.
That's it! Now go make something beautiful.
*Post it on any social media account you want or just post it on your refrigerator. The point is to share your art with someone. :)
Every October, artists all over the world take on the Inktober drawing challenge by doing one ink drawing a day the entire month.
I created Inktober in 2009 as a challenge to improve my inking skills and develop positive drawing habits. It has since grown into a worldwide endeavor with thousands of artists taking on the challenge every year.
Inktober rules:
1) Make a drawing in ink (you can do a pencil under-drawing if you want).
2) Post it*
3) Hashtag it with #inktober and #inktober2018
4) Repeat
Note: you can do it daily, or go the half-marathon route and post every other day, or just do the 5K and post once a week. What ever you decide, just be consistent with it. Inktober is about growing and improving and forming positive habits, so the more you’re consistent the better.
That's it! Now go make something beautiful.
*Post it on any social media account you want or just post it on your refrigerator. The point is to share your art with someone. :)
Every day an illustration was drawn out for the given prompt. Once completed, a raw picture was posted to Instagram and other sites. At the end of the month, full pages were scanned so that cropped, individual illustrations could be uploaded here.
This year continued with the same idea as the 2018 process: an initial pencil sketch is put down first with the incorporated text before it is inked over. Writing a story for a prompt comes just as naturally - if not more so - as drawing for one. Some prompts had walls of text integrated into the image, others only a line or three; however this is not a representation of how much story is behind the image.
This year continued with the same idea as the 2018 process: an initial pencil sketch is put down first with the incorporated text before it is inked over. Writing a story for a prompt comes just as naturally - if not more so - as drawing for one. Some prompts had walls of text integrated into the image, others only a line or three; however this is not a representation of how much story is behind the image.
The wind slammed into him from the south as if it was trying to throw him sideways into the snow. He struggled against it, bend forward and slightly to the right in a stubborn attempt to stay upright. He nearly collided with his guide too focused on just getting another foot forward against the sideways push of the wind. He jerked upright, looking to their obscured face when he realized they had turned almost all the way around. He couldn't make out their eyes, their face was too well protected against the elements and reflected sunlight, but they pointed and he turned, following their gesture with his eyes, and stared in awe at the bright ring that had encircled the setting sun.
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They changed into mindless beasts without caring about what - or who - was in their way.
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"It doesn't matter what you're trapping. Everything has a bait that will draw it in."
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"Freeze!" he shouted as the magic swelled but nothing happened and the hoard seemed to laugh as it got closer.
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It had taken so long to build their relationship up to close friends that he wanted to laugh at how stupidly easy it was to destroy it.
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He had to fight against the urge to call them some breed of husky because they weren't – he knew they weren't – but lined up and harnessed at the nose of the sled, it was hard not to.
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They didn't need it, not really, but little orbs of fire and light bobbed around them illuminating the forest. He felt those little arms around his neck tighten as one of the orbs of fire that he had sent off drifted closer and knew that the one on his back wasn't the only one enchanted by them. "You can touch it," he softly encouraged. "It won't hurt you." One little arm unwrapped from his neck and reached out, cautious fingers passing through the flames at the top of the orb. He could feel their giddiness at being able to touch it.
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"I didn't listen and I paid the price. I paid for not paying attention to how frail life could be and I regret it every day I live. Don't do what I did. Listen and remember. Life is frail but it is strong and we need to protect it with all we have."
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It was surreal to see the swing set sticking out of the ice and snow in among the crags and steep hills his guide was leading them through. A strange heaviness settled over him and he couldn't help but stop and rest his hand against a metal leg.
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The old man didn't react as she pushed back the hanging. She didn't expect him to; he could tell the difference between a customer and a passerby without looking. All the 'keeps could. He didn't still mid stroke of the intricate pattern and she didn't step in more. A glance around was all she needed to know the child wasn't there and continued on.
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Morning came in a dull light and, for a moment, he thought it was simply because it was earlier than he thought. A push at the tent flap proved him both right and wrong. The sun was barely starting to crest the eastern horizon but the dull light was not from a lack of sunlight. A layer of snow – probably no more than three inches – covered everything, including the sides of the tent.
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It had been a slaver's mark, that mark of the dragon. It had been, before the dragons had returned.
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The magic fell from the trees as an invisible ash. He knew they couldn't see it like he did and, for once, he was grateful for that. As long as he was the only one to see the signs, the less danger they were in.
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The trail was overgrown to the point where he kept losing sight of it but he could follow her and she seemed to know the path by heart. Probably did. This was her forest, after all.
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It was bizarre hearing some legend about an ancient world he had once lived in.
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"This is wild! You can still control it in my hands? You could still lift it?" "Of course," they chuckled, two hands drifting under said head. "It is like the rest of my body - malleable and molded by a singular force that is my being. I could even reshape it in your hands."
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He hated it. The thing was giant, clunky, and nothing more than an overgrown ornament yet everyone expected him to always have it on him, like it was what let him do what he did. Maybe that was for the better. Maybe if people didn't realize the truth, he could pull a fast one on an incompetent foe when the time comes. He still hated his staff.
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"If I ever hear you use anything like that again - even misfit - towards my children, I will break you."
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"Come on, look at me," they coaxed choking on their worry. It was hard to keep their hands steady enough to finish tying off the crude sling. "I know you're tired and in pain but we have to keep moving. It's not safe for you here."
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They had to tread carefully. There were no maps and the one that had been here before hadn't explored beyond the initial chamber.
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It wasn't hard to treasure the moment, what with his guide being so enthusiastic. A part of him still ached, though, and he knew this wouldn't last.
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A choked sob shook his body and all four hands hit the sand just as hard as his knees did. Despite no lungs to breathe, despite not being physically similar to humans in any way beyond vague shape, he cried with tears just like they did and felt the pain of grief probably more sharply than they did.
Humanity had left its mark on him and it hurt. He let that hurt turn into wails as the sun rose higher into the brilliantly blue sky. |Excerpt from "Don't you have a country to run?"|
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He had been so excited to show her, to see the awe on her face as she gazed at his world, that when he looked at her, he was shocked to see a strange sadness instead. "What's wrong?" She glanced at him briefly. "Your race is so ancient compared to us. Why waste your time on us?"
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"He does realize that he can get dizzy as well?" "I don't think it really matters. I've got enough buffer spells going that even if he does end up too dizzy to be careful, neither will get hurt." A non-committal hum. A pause. "So if he lets go in our direction-" "I've already got two spells prepared just in case."
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The amount of giggling coming from the small body nearest him was excessive. As one of the others went to get the rest of the company from the river, he gestured at the small body, retorting, "Shush. It's tasty. May not be Mom's cooking but it's still good."
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They pulled him off of the ground with little care and it sent a thrill through him to see his enemy limp in their grasps. But that broken spirit he had expected to see didn't exist. The other sent him a dark look that was off-putting, especially when he could have sworn they had succeeded. It frightened him as much as it infuriated him. "Throw him back into his cell," he barked. His subordinates were quick to follow his order. His mind, though, was focused on how to break that stubborn soul. With a curl of his lip he added, "And then bring the other one. If we can't break him, we'll break her." There was a flash in that defiant glare that made him grin.
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"Be careful, though. If you don't have an even coat, it won't work right and you'll either get patchy burns or it'll combust."
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They finally found it and the joy at seeing his ride as they flew along the narrow ledge was fleeting. They weren't the first to find it.
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Hands that were not his held onto her - kept her back - as she screamed his name. Slowly, in pairs, he raised his hands. Slowly, against the blinding lights hiding those shouting at them, his head turned till one of his eyes focused on her. Had she not pressed her hands against his wounds, she wouldn't have been able to tell he had been injured. Not until his voice echoed in her head. "Keep living." She struggled harder as he turned away.
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"Well, well, well. Bout time the two of you showed up." Neither of them reacted. She didn't seem to care. "You certainly look the part. But are you two the real deal?" 'Like she would ask for us by name if we weren't.' "Who do you need us to find?" He smiled, letting it push the edge of unsettling. "I doubt you brought us in to compare notes." Her smile sweetened. "You are a sharp one, aren't you?" "Only when there is money to make, people to find." 'Get to the point.' She pressed her weight into the table. "No one of consequence," she replied as a massive form stepped up behind her. Their grin showed off every sharp tooth they possessed. "Unless you fail to catch them. Then there will be consequences."
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"Wait!" He turned and just as swiftly as the word had been shouted, his guide was pressing something into his chest. "Plant it when it is ripe."
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The resulting full pages through the event.
