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Description

She wears a black jumper dress with a white button-up shirt underneath it—her black bow tie is untied. Her arm bones wrap around her leg bones, a corpse in the fetal position, the god in the machine. In the sensory deprivation tank she is weightless. Death has no eyes but there is a fire in them—she has no lips but there is a smile on them—and her silver hair flows around her like a mermaid’s kelp-dressed mane. A snarl of tender morning glories, fiber optic threads, and pale pink nerves pushes into the empty spaces between her bones. Death dreams of a world sans sin and the mainframe makes it. The tempo of her thoughts guides the glowing strings, and these in turn weave the holograms.

~ from Ouroboros

Gel pens and microns. I didn't do a preliminary sketch in pencil first. Just wanted to brag about that.

Description

She wears a black jumper dress with a white button-up shirt underneath it—her black bow tie is untied. Her arm bones wrap around her leg bones, a corpse in the fetal position, the god in the machine. In the sensory deprivation tank she is weightless. Death has no eyes but there is a fire in them—she has no lips but there is a smile on them—and her silver hair flows around her like a mermaid’s kelp-dressed mane. A snarl of tender morning glories, fiber optic threads, and pale pink nerves pushes into the empty spaces between her bones. Death dreams of a world sans sin and the mainframe makes it. The tempo of her thoughts guides the glowing strings, and these in turn weave the holograms.

~ from Ouroboros

Gel pens and microns. I didn't do a preliminary sketch in pencil first. Just wanted to brag about that.