Lol idk I started these sketches like weeks ago and decided to finish them. I think it started as an excuse to draw a skeleton in a suit. There’s not really a joke or a point but I wanted to get these 4 pics doNE
A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence, dir. Roy Andersson
Mistress America, dir. Noah Baumbach
Appropriate Behavior, dir. Desiree Akhavan
Nasty Baby, dir. Sebastián Silva
Inside Out, dir. Pete Docter and Ronnie del Carmen
Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens, dir. J.J. Abrams
The Hateful Eight, dir. Quentin Tarantino
Maps to the Stars, dir. David Cronenberg
Entertainment, dir. Rick Alverson
The Mend, dir. John Magary
Junun, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson
Love, dir. Gaspar Noé
Special Mention to Possibly the Greatest Short Film Ever Made:World of Tomorrow (dir. Don Hertzfeldt)
Honorable Mentions:Amy (dir. Asif Kapadia), Beasts of No Nation (dir. Cary Joji Fukunaga), Clouds of Sils Maria (dir. Olivier Assayas), Creed (dir. Ryan Coogler), The Look of Silence (dir. Joshua Oppenheimer) Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (dir. Alfonso Gomez-Rejon), Reality (dir. Quentin Dupieux), The Revenant (dir. Alejandro González Iñárritu), The Tribe (dir. Myroslav Slaboshpytskiy), and White God (dir. Kornél Mundruczó)
With all our headcanons, mind-links and conversations, I couldn’t decide what to draw for you… so I thought why not some of your fave(?) things bundled together? Hohoho happiest birthday @sassyhazelowl!!
There was a shadow in the far-left corner of her eye. He’d been there for as long as she could remember. She’d been trying not to look at him for just as long. She didn’t know what would happen if she looked. She only knew that whenever she came close, she was overwhelmed with a sense of all-consuming dread. The shadow wanted her to look at him, but that only increased her certainty that she shouldn’t.
She knew that he wanted her to look at him because he’d told her. He hadn’t started talking to her until she was twelve.
“I don’t know why you won’t look at me, Princess,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve been waiting, haven’t I?”
The Princess did not reply. She did not even deign to acknowledge that she’d heard him. She thought that acknowledging him set a bad precedent, and started down a slippery slope toward looking at him. Setting firm boundaries was important.
He was quiet, most of the time. Maybe he thought that if he didn’t say anything, she would forget he was there, and look.
“If I was going to do something bad, wouldn’t I have done it by now?”
When she needed to look to the left, she closed her eyes first, and turned her whole head. The Court thought that it was charming, and looked demure.
“I didn’t need to tell you about that loose step, you know. I could have let you fall. Wouldn’t I have, if I was bad?”
Her sleep was dreamless, and so there could be no shadows.
“You’d be lonely without me. You’ll never know how terrible it is, to be alone.”
She didn’t speak much in crowds, for fear that she’d lose track of whose voice was whose. The Court thought that she was shy.
“You really don’t have anything to cry about. You’re a Princess. Everyone loves you. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
When she was sixteen, a man who wanted her to marry his son gave her a fairy pony. It could stand in the palm of her hand, with a coat made of moonlight and a mane of sunbeams. Its eyes were all-seeing, and it spoke only truth. She waited until she was alone to try talking to it.
“Is there something in my eye?” she asked.
“No,” it said.
“Are you asking it about me?”
“Do you think there’s something in your eye?” the pony asked.
“I thought there was,” the Princess said, “but it must be in my head.”
“Most important things are,” the pony said, “including your eyes. I’m not actually all-seeing, anyway. I’m just very observant. I’m not sure why he told you that, when it was never going to hold up. You’d think the moonbeams would be enough.”
“So there might be something in my eye, still?” she asked.
“Could be,” the pony said. “You’d be better off asking a witch. I’m just a pony.”
“You’re a very nice pony,” she said.
“Thank you,” it said. “I’m very handsome.”
“You are,” she agreed. “Is his son nice?”
“No,” the pony said. “He says you look like a chipmunk. I think he said it in front of me on purpose. I think he was hoping I’d tell you.”
“I would never say something like that,” the shadow whispered. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
“I know I have buckteeth,” the Princess told the pony, “but I think they add character.”
“They do,” the pony agreed.
“You’re really very pretty,” the shadow whispered.