black uroborus


Ok, before I get into this, I’ll let you roll your eyes at the “A Ritual in Two Parts” title.

Did you get over it yet?

Alright, cool.

So a bad habit of mine (I think it’s a good habit, really) is that I end up writing noisy, dark ambient warbling madness for my project, Occlude, only to discard it a few days later after I listen to it and realize it’s derivative crap. My first release, “The Sun Speaks Ill of You”, is pretty close to being finished. I just need to fucking finish the damn thing.

But either way, I made this for some songs I was working on. You know, and then I killed them, so now they’ll never happen. The sad part is that I really like this artwork. I may end up still using this art for something somewhere down the road someday, just with better type (and a better god damn title, because seriously, what was I thinking).

Something I’m currently toiling over while I work on a vast slew of other things. One thing I’ve noticed about much of my work is not only the lack of real variety, but my non-usage of reference materials. In tandem with that, I think there’s a lot more than I can do that I’m not doing currently. Basically, it’s about time I start pushing myself further with each piece and raise the bar, so to speak

A digital sketch done while working on some things. Been a bit slow around these parts since I just got a job.

I basically take children’s books like “MY MOM CAN’T SEE” out of boxes, count them, put them on shelves, then take them off the shelves, count them again, and put them back into boxes.

Existential meltdown, here we come.

This is a drawing from a while ago that I just found lying around on my harddrive in an unnamed folder. I was working on a tattoo for a friend of mine in the UK. My first attempt he wasn’t feeling, and so before taking a second stab at another sketch, I sort of went to town here. At the time, I had only slept about 2 hours and was feeling incredibly manic while trying to remain awake so as not to completely destroy my sleep cycle.

I seem to remember at one point uttering a few times “whispers on tongues from mouths unknown”.

And with that being said, I think it’s about time I get me a fucking therapist.