This blog is dead.

I'm still drawing some.
Not as much as before. Not as many graphics as before.
I've just been too busy.
Not too busy to blog, just to manage 2 blogs at once.

We can have a funeral. Cry some. Reminisce some. Then go eat some cake... and then return to life as it was before, making memories over on my other blog.
I'll merge them now, I'll post more art and photography over on my Wordpress site.

Bye-Bye.

Nerd...

So call me a nerd... I think maybe I am one... >.<

Zz...

Battlecries of the Reformation


lovely Oboe-wan Kenobi.

Jarod wanted me to draw him in the Bangalore airport... we were really bored. I drew the basic outline and did some shading and details, then Pastor W took it and added a lot more detail. :P

Some photography from India...

'Kay, Fine...

I've been playing around on The GIMP some lately... no short stories or anything, sorry, though I am working out the glitches for an allegorical trilogy.

Viking Quest sig set!!! Banner above, avatar below. I like it. I wanted something with Bree, but all the pictures I could find of Bree weren't very good quality, so I had to go with Dev and Mikkel.



My name in 3 scripts.. English, Arabic, and Elvish. Though in Elvish it's "Kai-el" because I can't find the accent for the "i" anywhere on the keyboard.

Some flame effect from the GIMP. Don't know what I did, just that it looks cool.

K in 3 scripts...

"Best Disney Couple" contest on A-U. Found a really neat glow effect that took away how old the pictures look.

Whoot Martin Luther! The movie that the main picture is from is really good, by the way.

Pretty candles... a picture from the candle dance I played around with the effects. Not much showed up, it was so dark, but it still gave a bit of a glare thing.



Ky

A Wanderer's Life

Recent graphics...
For the A-U inspiration contest. I'm really proud of this set, it's probably one of my best.


For the A-U Disney song contest... not one of my best, but yeah.


This was made at first for the Disney one, but then I realized that it had to be one of Disney's animation videos... so I made the Beauty and the Beast one.
But the chimneysweep scene with the whole dance thing is probably one of my favorite Disney things.

------
A foot out the door,
A lingering glance,
A final farewell to all I know.

A pipe in my hand,
A cloak on my back,
A quick glance ‘round before I go.

Turn to face the sunrise,
Lifting my face to the morning beauty.
Stepping into the morning dew,
Setting out on an unknown path,
A melody flowing from my mind.

New places, new faces,
A silent nod to every stranger.
Leaving all I knew behind,
Setting out to rest at last,
Always hunting for an answer.

The name of wanderer I now bear,
No house or place to call my own.
From village to city, ‘cross river and lake,
Where e’er the road leads,
A search for the place to call home.

A foot out the door,
A pipe in my hand,
A wanderer’s life for me.

Always, Forever and Ever

Always, Forever and Ever - Lady Kyleian, December 2007

I sighed and leaned back in my chair to listen more closely to the Christmassy cello piece my brother was practicing. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!” The notes seemed to sing, and the words of the familiar carol rang in my mind. Tilting my head slightly to the left, I gazed at the colorful lights of the Christmas tree through half-closed eyes, liking the star effect it gave them. Like it was every year, the Christmas tree was a tall evergreen, decorated with lights, tinsel, and ornaments from my childhood. One of our three cats, Crackle, lay curled up on the fleece blanket underneath the tree, her paw opening and closing around a small parcel, the only one under the tree. It messily wrapped, and the tag on it was written in a child’s hand. “For Rebecca,” it read. Immediately I had known who it was from, that handwriting could only be my little sister Bethany’s.

The cello stopped singing, and then he started playing another Christmas carol, this one low and somber. I picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him, begging him to change the music. Annoyed, he threw his music books down on the floor and began putting his cello away.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said.

“It wasn’t really helping anyway. It’s still there… not even music will help this time.”
“Do… do ya think she’s going to make it?” I asked, wondering if his hopes were anything contrary to mine.
“Bethy’s tough, Rebecca. If anyone can make it, she can.”
I pictured four-year-old Bethany in the hospital, sick with pneumonia and a million other things all at once, IVs sticking out of her arm, covered in blankets… mom and dad sitting by her side holding her hand.
Snow started to fall outside, one of the first times this winter. The first was a time I wanted to forget, that day Bethy had come inside from playing out in the snow coughing and sneezing. Instead of being rosy from the chilly winter air, her cheeks were pale. I caught her in my arms when she coughed so hard she almost toppled head first onto the rug.
The rest of it had been a blur, mom getting her bundled up in blankets and with a hot water bottle, sitting her by the heater while she called the doctor… and then everyone but Jacob and I had gotten in the car and driven to the hospital.
Three hours had passed, and there was still no word. We tried to keep busy, making hot chocolate, watching the sun go down… playing music, anything to take our minds off of Bethy. My mind whirred with silent prayers for my tow-headed little sister and her smiling, bouncy, cheerful ways.
I stared at Crackle and the little gift she held in her paw, wondering what was inside… and if Bethany would be there to see me open it on Christmas morning. Turning my attention to the window, I walked over to the couch and seated myself in a position where I could watch the snowflakes tumble to the ground, creating a winter wonderland.
The hours ticked by. Five. Snow an inch deep now covered all greenery outside. Six. The snow was finally letting up, allowing for a small break in the clouds to see the moon. Seven. Jacob and I played chess, engrossing our minds in something that needed our full attention. Eight. Jacob began to draw, his swift, light lines forming the soft features of Bethany’s child-like face. At exactly nine O’clock PM, the telephone rang. Jacob set down the pencil he was using to sketch with, jumping up to get the call.

“H-hi, this is Jacob,” he said, all run together so it almost sounded like “HithisisJacob.”
“The doctor…” There was silence for a few seconds, then the voice went on. “well…” Jacob set the phone so I could hear as well, and I listened from where I lay under the tree next to Crackle.
“Mom, just say it!” Jacob begged impatiently. When mom still didn’t reply, he went on, repeating what he had told me earlier “If anyone can make it, Bethy can.”
“The doctor thinks she won’t, Jacob. She’s too small to handle everything coming at her. They’re doing everything they can. You and Rebecca can go to bed if you like, we won’t be home for a while.”
“Thanks for calling, mom.”
Jacob hung up, walking back to his drawing with shuffling feet. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears from coming. This was supposed to be the Christmas season. There was supposed to be joy. And now, seven days before Christmas, there was none in my heart, only a deep longing for Bethy to get better.

I must have fallen asleep under the Christmas tree, for I woke up under it, Crackle lying on my stomach and purring contentedly.
“Morning, girl,” I said groggily. Jacob sat at the table staring at the Christmas tree, his eyes half closed. I got up and walked over to him.
“Any more news?”
“Nothing going either way. Sounds like she’s just hanging in there.”
“Get some sleep, Jacob.”
“Can’t. I tried, all night long.”
All day long, my mind screamed to know. It screamed to find out if Bethy would get better, if Christmas this year would seem like Christmas. It screamed for lack of something better to do, out of both boredom and agony.
Then came the call. I answered it this time, and when I set the phone back down on the charger, I slumped to the ground. Jacob lowered his head and walked away, then a few minutes later began to play his cello again. Sometimes I thought it was his only source of emotion, playing his music, it was all he ever did when he was happy, angry, or sad. And he always played music to match his mood.
The tears fell freely, soaking my shirt, puddling on the floor around me. Bethy was gone, I would never see her beautiful baby-tooth filled smile again, never hold her hand when we crossed the street, never pick her up and carry her around the house like an airplane.

Preparations for the funeral began immediately, and they sped by without me realizing much had happened – it was as if I walked in a daze, moving through everything but not really knowing what I was doing. Barely anyone spoke in the house, we were all occupied with different things – Jacob with his cello, me with anything I could do around the house, mom calling people and places, dad going through some of Bethy’s old things…

Christmas Eve dawned to glistening snow on the treetops and a few snowflakes falling as the sun shone in between them. I rolled over in bed, not wanting to wake up. Today was Bethy’s funeral, a cold wintry day I didn’t want to face. Mom pounded on my door to get me up to get ready, and finally I stepped out onto the cold floor and hurried across to the rug, where I got dressed.
I was out of it most of the funeral, I don’t think I remember a single word of what was said, a single thing that was done… only that my precious Bethy was gone.
Late that evening, I sat on the couch staring at the Christmas tree lights as I had only six days before, when Bethy was still alive, when there was still hope. It was then my attention was again drawn to the small package beneath the tree. The messy letters stared at me, telling me to open them. I reached for it, pulling off the over-sized bow Bethany had taped on it, then peeling off the strips of tape. The contents of the wrapping spilled out onto my hand, and I looked at it all over and over again.
First came two quarters, some of the first money of her own Bethany ever had. They shined as if they were new because Bethany had rubbed them clean as if they were a silver tea pot. Next came her little pewter ballerina figurine, showing her hope to be a ballerina in the future. Many nights she had shared with me how someday she would leap across the stage and everyone would watch her and clap for her. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked in further to see the last little thing. It was only a wadded up piece of paper, but she had written inside it, words I never would have expected Bethany to write. I had seen her scribbling something with Jacob’s help when she sat by the heater, but I never knew its contents until now.

“To my favorite sister, Bec,” it read. “right now I feel really sick. Jake is helping me write this because I want to tell you something. I love you so much, and I don’t want to leave you. But I know –“ there was a scribble here because ‘know’ had been written ‘knom’ – “I will see you soon, with Jesus. Don’t forget me, Bec. When I sit in Jesus’ lap, I’ll tell him all about you, about how wonnerful (J says it’s wonderful, but I say wonnerful) you are. Bec, I haven’t left you, not all the way. I’m stored up in your heart, that’s what J says, cuz I’m in his, too. And I can’t never leave your heart, and you can’t never leave mine. I’m in there forever.

Don’t miss me for long, Bec.

- Bethy.”

By now the tears were rolling down my cheeks and I was sobbing uncontrollably. But one thing I knew: this Christmas season would be joyful. Bethy was right, she was stored up in my heart, and I shouldn’t miss her for long, because she was in a better place than I.
Jacob had come into the room while I was reading the letter, and sat down on the couch beside me.
“She was smart, wasn’t she?”
“Is, you mean,” I replied. “Not was.” I pointed at my heart. “She’s in here for always, forever and ever. Don’t miss her for long, Jacob.”
He nodded, then scooted closer to me. I leaned my head on his shoulder, repeating the words in my head. In here for always, forever and ever. Don’t miss her for long… don’t miss her for long…
Christmas, albeit sad, would have a different meaning this year, thanks to Bethy’s beautiful words and the healing touch of One from Above.
And it was a Merry Christmas, and little Bethy was in my heart, always, forever and ever.

Over'n'out
Kilo-Yankee

December Cometh...

The d'Arque drawing. It's not quite Johnny-like enough or creepy enough, but people can tell it's him as d'Arque...

This was drawn for an art trade with Matthew. He picked what I drew for him, I picked what he drew for me. What was it? This.

This was for a graphics and photography contest over on A-U. I layered 2 of my best shots from my set "Canyon Sunset" from the south rim of the Grand Canyon and put 2 layers of text, one more erased than the other. Simple, but I like it.

Our Christmas wallpaper this year. I made it. :P Pictures are from The Nativity Story, text is "O Come All Ye Faithful," in Latin (quid quid latine dictum sit, altum videtur, no?).

And, you get to see a preview of my Nanowrimo from this year. This is just selected little bits... I'm looking for proofreaders/people to tell me what needs to go and where things should be taken away/added... Don't be offended if I say no.

God will be with me always… wherever I go. God, help me stick to you, whatever the cost may be, here, in Yemen, or anywhere in between. I can never repay you for what you’ve done for my, but I can tell others about your amazing love. I pray you’d help me not to be ashamed of my faith, but I’d also know when not to speak up if that might ever be the case.

As Eileen went to bed a few minutes later, the strains of Amazing Love rang in her head. “Amazing love, how can it be, that you my king would die for me, Amazing love, I know it’s true, and it’s my joy to honor you…. Jesus, you are my king… you are my king…”

One month left here. One month helping Grandma L., one month playing Frisbee with Tim, Jess, and David. One month to let the twins clamber all over me. God, sometimes it’s so hard to do this. I want to follow you, even when it’s hard, even when where I’m at now looks so easy and good. I’ll go wherever you want me to go, Lord, help me be willing to follow you, whatever the cost, wherever I go. Whatever happens. Tim, too, God, help Tim be willing to stick to you no matter the cost or what happens.

------

“Reem, whatever happens, know that I love you. Remember what Christ did for us, and never do anything you would be ashamed of. I pray it never comes to this, but if there is ever a choice between life and death, choose eternal life – even if it means death or separation for a short while. Love God with all your heart, whatever the cost, wherever we are, whatever happens.” Reem was crying, sobbing uncontrollably. “Remember the little life inside of you. Raise our child to see the Lord.”

Reem shook her head, sensing what Kasam was implying. “No, Kasam, everything will be fine… my father will not mind so much soon, and then everything will go back to normal.”

Kasam was silent, hugging Reem close to him. No… no, for some reason I do not think that will be so. Something tells me… Oh God, it can’t be can it? How can I leave Reem? How can I leave my beautiful Yemen? Suddenly Kasam felt as if someone’s arms were surrounding him and he was hidden away in them as if he were a small child.

Kasam, my child… I love you more than you love Reem, more than you love Yemen. I have called you to follow me. I have destined you to be my child since the beginning. Do not be afraid. I have a plan for you, one to bring light to the nations, one that will touch the lives of many. Trust me, Kasam. Trust me.

Kasam shut his eyes tightly. God, help me try… I want to trust you. I will trust you.

Also, I would like people to read my Stargonia story and give me their most truest honestest opinions on it - I want it to be really really good.

Ky