Rohvannyn Shaw's Blog: The Pencil and Quill, page 5

Forest Waterfall

 

I had the idea to do this when I saw a particularly evocative waterfall.  I was originally going to detail it far more, but stopped when my partner said it was complete and I noticed I liked the effect as well.  Acrylic on canvasboard.

Book Cover: Experimental College

Here’s the cover with text etc:

 

Here’s the original painting:

 

Click on the painting for a bigger version if you like.  This book is a novel written by my father, and I completed it in acrylics with a bit of detail added in Conte and chalk.  I was trying to show the different aspects of the book – the Braille books, the Braille Writer, the circular slide rule, the wine bottle, the carnation, the rocket, and the red panties all have parts to play in the story.  I was going for a cover that was mysterious and intriguing, yet pleasing.

If you want to check out the book, click on the upper cover!

The Vigil

This isn’t one of my most recent works, but one that I hadn’t appreciated enough.  I was looking at it again the other day and I noticed some small details – like the movement of the water – that I really enjoyed looking at.  I always enjoy seeing new things in art that I’ve put away for a while.

Notice how there’s a contrail?  Suddenly, there’s a story there… who is this person, who are they waiting for, what’s that red ribbon above them?  Are they stuck on a primitive world and waiting for rescue?  Or are they just on vacation?

Click on the picture for a better view.

Playing with my Fountain Pen

 

I am truly enjoying my fountain pen.  This is a drawing of a Kuromatsu (Japanese Black Pine) with black ink, medium point, cartridge fed.  A simple sketch, but satisfying.

Poem: Monsoon

 

 

This is a poem that came out of the Tucson Monsoons one steamy July night.

Monsoon

A brilliant branch

cracks down,

plasma booming.

It roars, reaches,

and crashes again.

Pregnant clouds play catch

with balls of rolling thunder.

Rooster tails of water spray.

and water fills the air

till it can hold no more.

The blood-warm mist

and steam wraps my skin.

I drink the wine

of the new mown lawn,

taste the rich

mesquite-green wind.