Thursday, March 29, 2012

Sketch of the Week 6

Whoa another sketch... Hmm this is starting to get serious. Six weeks is a long time. Well, I hope you all enjoy. I call this piece 'If Houses Could Eat!'.

Sketch of 'If Houses Could Eat!'

Colorfied 'If Houses Could Eat!'

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

A Door into the Past Pt. 1


Greetings blog readers. As you can see we are starting a new story this week. I hope you all enjoyed Bleakman's Bog. I am going in a new direction with this story. It will be more realistic, but there will be some science fiction things coming into the story. As you can tell by the title and the labels I am dealing with time travel. However, I feel that I will be dealing with it in a fairly unique way. Without further delay. Here is the newest story for Imaginary Ramblings!

A Door into the Past
by
Matthew Jones

“As you can see here the wood floor is original and has been kept in impeccable condition.” Susan was showing the house for the fourth time. She new the house from top to bottom and could answer nearly every question.

“What about right here? These scuff marks in front of the door.” Marcus reached for the door. It was locked. “Hey what's in here?”

Those were the two questions every person asked. Yet, she still had no answer. Every locksmith they had hired failed or quit. They tried forcing it, but it was just too sturdy. Short of ripping it out of the wall they had tried everything. And the scuff marks were a mystery as well. The man who had owned the house before was very strange, but other than someone sitting in that spot in front of the door there was no other explanation.

“The scuff marks appear to be from a chair. The door however as far as the floor plans are concerned goes nowhere. Since as you know the last owner committed suicide two years ago we could not ask him.” Susan Cage looked at the couple hopefully. This answer was usually where people decided this house was too old, scary, rundown or whatever other excuse they could come up with.

“A decorative door how quaint. Don't you think so Marcus?” Abigale Pierce the wife or Marcus Pierce always preferred to look on the bright side.

When they had seen the house and how little was being asked for it. They immediately called the agent. Once they were told the owner had committed suicide Abigale looked at Marcus and said 'At least it got us a lower price.'

“I suppose we can ignore the nowhere door. However, these scuffs on the floor are quite an eyesore and located right across from the master bedroom.” Marcus ever the deal maker tried every angle he could use to lower a price.

“Yes, of course. Let's go and see the master bath. It is absolutely lovely.”


The deal was struck a beautiful home with new owners. After a couple months all the loans and paperwork went through. Finally they would be home. Marcus and Abigale walked into their new home. A feeling of achievement rushed over the both of them. As they made love the warm wood floors felt more like home than ever.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Sketch of the Week 5

So, I was thinking maybe I should focus on doing some pen work. Well, I made this weeks image with pen and then I decided... this image is boring... you know what it needs. It needs color! So, I ended up still adding color in the end, but I hope you enjoy none the less.

Black and White Scan

Color Copy made from Black and White Scan.

Original Sketch. Yes I draw on off white paper. Not Bleached.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Bleakman's Bog Pt. 9

Well, we have had a long journey together and I feel like this has been a true adventure. I hope you grew and enjoyed along my side. Without further rambling here is the finale of Bleakman's Bog.

The First Part. Last Week.
The Finale


The end had finally arrived. All these years of waiting.
“Golem grab Duncan and drag him down to the cellar.” Anne's lips smiled sweetly.
Olga finally had her wish. Olga's revenge would be complete. Using Anne's fingers Olga caressed the worn and tattered lace. A crash came from the steps as Duncan landed on the floor. Olga stood over him Thomas and her body to her back.
“Release her... Please, I give up. Just release my wife and child.” Duncan could barely speak the words were nothing but a whisper.
Dennis pulled Duncan to his feet and held him arms bound by the golem's unnatural strength.
“Oh, Hanna. Sure as a final favor. Hanna come to me!” Anne's lips twisted in a wicked smile.
Hanna stepped carefully down the steps. Shyly she approached the witch in Anne's body. Her eyes were cast down.
“Hanna look your father has come to exchange his life for your own. How about you give your father a hug. Thank him like a good girl.” Olga was feeling excitement like never before.
Hanna embrace her father. Her chains clanging together. The witch looked at Dennis and with nothing, but a nod and a thought Dennis let go of Duncan and ripped Hanna's head right off. A shrill sound spread through the air. Darkness started to stream from the open wound and filled the air. It traveled finally to land in Anne's hand. Hanna's body fell and the darkness leg disappeared.
Duncan stared in shock and horror.
“That was so much more satisfying. The first time I killed her you were unconscious. Though to be precise I did not kill her this time. She was already dead. However, in your eyes I see that there was little difference.” Anne's face nearly glowed with joy.
“Why are you doing this? Just kill me already.” Duncan could barely stand his body hung like a scarecrow.
“Why? That is a good question. Perhaps I will tell you in the afterlife, if I ever die.” she smiled to herself. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of answers. “Dennis my dear. Please place Duncan before Thomas.”
Roughly Dennis force Duncan onto his knees in front of the perfectly preserved and repaired Thomas Bleakman.
“It takes a tremendous amount of energy to bring a soul back. I will be using every once of your life force to return Thomas to his rightful place by my side. I will then leave your Anne's body. She will die. Perhaps you will find each other in the afterlife. I sincerely hope you don't.”
Suddenly she clapped her hands together. Dennis' body fell to the ground. The light started to gather into Anne's hands. The energy left every stone and corner of the room. What was once the center of life was now as dead and dark as the rest of the bog. Anne's body glowed with brilliant light. It was tearing at her flash. Walking up to Dennis he looked her in the eyes. Tears were falling now, both their eyes were wet. Her hands burned as they grasped either side of his head. He felt the life draining out of him. He felt it streaming through him. He felt something. Something kind.
“Who are you?” a voice asked.
The pain was too much Duncan could not answer.
“I should have known. I am sorry.”
The essence was gone. So was the energy. So was everything.



Opening his eyes Thomas looked on the primal plane for the first time in years. He recognized the room. Though it was in very bad shape. He did not recognize the woman standing before him.
“Thomas, oh my Thomas I have waited so long for you.”
The vengeance had run its course. Suddenly Olga's body began to spasm with black smoke and blood spurted from every orifice. Anne's body began to do the same.
“Thomas, help me Thomas. What is happening?”
“Oh, my dear Olga. Vengeance requires a fee. I fear that you are the price it requires.“
“How can you just sit there and watch... I am dying Thomas.”
“My dear. There is nothing I can do. If you had not asked for this thing. Perhaps we could have spent many years together in the beyond, but I fear your soul is tainted. You will not be welcome. It pains me do much. You should not have brought me back.”
Anne's body drew its last breath and they both lay there dead. Olga's soul passed to the lands of darkness eternal. Thomas felt her go beyond his touch. His tears were sincere, though his heart did not know the soul that had passed it was so fouled by Vengeance. Thomas also felt Duncan, Dennis, Anne, and Hanna. With a slight push of his power he nudged them towards their final resting. The light was beautiful. Thomas smiled and walked up the rotten steps of his old home.
Looking out the door her saw a glimpse of the sun through the now dissipating mists. Stepping out of the house he pushed his power ever so slightly. With each step the gray became green. Thomas Bleakman smiled and whistled a jovial song that hadn't been heard for years. His steps had a spring in them. The sky cleared more with each step. And soon even the trees started to get green buds on them.



Thomas Bleakman was not a cold hearted man. He felt the weight of all that had transpired. It was simply a question of time. He had no time to mourn. A lifetime was a short thing. Even for someone who has already lived one.

The End 
 

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Sketch of the Week 4

So, as promised here is the completed piece I hope you enjoy. I feel like my airbrushing is getting pretty good. I am using some techniques easily now that I hardly even grasped when I started doing the Sketch of the Week series. You are here for the art not a lecture. Enjoy!





Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Bleakman's Bog Pt. 8


So, I was sick all weekend. But don't let that worry you this week's post did not suffer. Now that everything is coming together we will finally be prepared for the shocking finale coming in just one week. That's right next week will conclude Bleakman's Bog.

The First Part. Last Week.
Now please enjoy Part 8 of Bleakman's Bog!

As Olga's shell became warm with life again she stood on her shriveled dead legs. Olga soon realized that her young body was no more. Her skin was sunken and she had shriveled, worn eyes that could hardly see. She had been dead for quite sometime. Vengeance had brought her back, and vengeance showed her a bit of lace on the ground. The lace from that poor girl's dress. The power of vengeance overcame her as she touched the bit from the dress and she saw the truth.
Olga saw the man with the dark eyes offering the child a piece of rock sugar. She saw the man do things, terrible things. Olga saw him bury the girl's body outside his cottage. She saw him leading searches. And lastly Olga saw him “find” the lace in her husband's cellar. Lastly she saw the man's name. He was known as Tobias Stone.
Olga's first task was to get Thomas' body back. But as she walked to the edges of the dead ground she was shocked with agonizing pain. When she could go no further she stood there looking at the good and decent things outside her perimeter of death. An image of a shadow came to her. Another gift of vengeance.
Olga pushed her soul into the blackness. She pushed herself towards what felt like death, but vengeance told her this was the way. Soon everything became black and her body fell to the ground. When she awoke she found herself weaker than she had ever felt.
Somehow, Olga was home. She was sitting in her rocking chair, for how long she did not know. Olga walked down the stairs into the cellar and there she found him. Although his body was torn and battered, Olga knew it was him. It wasn't something she knew by looking at him, but for something told her it was Thomas.
Olga felt so weak. So, she went back to the chair and rested. While Olga slept she dreamed of the man who had caused all her pain. Tobias Stone stayed clear of the towns small children. In fact he took a wife and moved out into the forest. Tobias had a son and he named that boy Duncan Stone. Soon Tobias died, but his son lived pumping the blood of Olga's transgressor through his veins.
The dreams gave Olga no sense of time. It seemed like eternity and an instant, but one day she awoke as a deer was pierced by an arrow. The creature's life was flooding from it, Olga did not let the deer rest. No it would bring Duncan to her. This deer would allow her vengeance. Only a few more components were required to complete the ritual. And Duncan was the first of them.


Olga used Anne's lips to smile. She had placed her body next to Thomas so that they could slumber and grow strong together. Thomas' body as well as her own body looked better than they had before their death. The spells and the power from children had returned the bodies to their prime. All she needed was Duncan and everything would be complete. With Duncan and Anne's souls as sacrifice she would be able to return Thomas and herself back. It would all happen soon she felt Duncan's stumble closer every second.


Dennis followed the call of the witch. Soon perhaps sweet sleep would be allowed, but until then he would do as commanded. He had no other choice. The mists made way for him. Soon the mists opened up to the witch's hovel. He stepped in the door and stood awaiting his next command. Perhaps he might be commanded to sleep. That would be a blessing indeed. If only that would be his next command.


Duncan saw the mists swirling around the entrance to a door. At the entrance he saw Dennis standing in the entryway. Duncan couldn't face that creature again. Dennis had nearly killed him last time. However that did not change what had to happen. Duncan continued his hobbling march. Right to the front door. Right to the monster that had once been Dennis Ironarm. Right to the home of the most evil thing that had ever touched his soul. Right to is Anne. Duncan looked in the door around the still motionless Dennis. In the hovel Duncan saw his beautiful Hanna chained in a corner and Duncan fell to his knees. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Hanna was dead he knew she was dead. But when Hanna looked up from the dirty wood floor she had no life in her eyes. And as he saw the hollowness in her eyes he saw the truth of her. Her skin hung loose in places and was completely gone in others. What had once been her leg was now a shadowy form that sucked the light from the air itself. Duncan could not stand. He now understood that all his effort was for naught. He could not stop the witch everything was futile. It had already ended all those years ago. He had already failed. All was lost.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Sketch of the Week 3


Here is an early edit of a much larger piece that I will have finished by next week. But since this is the sketch of the week I had to include a color version and the original. I hope you enjoy.



Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Bleakman's Bog Pt. 7


I don't want to over excite anyone, but I nearly crapped my pants with excitement as I wrote this entry. Everything is coming together. I hope you all are enjoying the experience as much as I am.

Part 1.
Part 2.
Part 3.
Part 4.
Part 5.
Part 6.
And now prepare for the shocking Part 7.

The witch had finally collected enough power. It had been so long she waited. It had been so long that she clawed at the last remaining sliver of life in her cracked leather skin. Finally she would have justice, finally she would have her Thomas back. Standing over the tomb she put more and more of herself into the blood spells. Into the magic of Vengeance. The air crackled with energy. If all in the bog was death this room was life itself. Even the worn flesh of Anne looked new in this room, but the magic was not for Anne. Nor was it for the witch it was for Thomas Bleakman.



Her name was once Olga Bleakman, wife to Thomas Bleakman. Thomas was a good man or at least he had been to her. But the towns people didn't trust his magics. Sure he had doubled their crops and made wounds heal nearly instantly. However, none of that mattered when a young child disappeared. It was the warlock's fault. It had to have been. Only someone who consorts with the powers beyond could take a child. So, when they arrived at the door in numbers with torches and weapons it was not a surprise.
Thomas was kind and let the villagers in.
“Search all you want I did not take the child.” Was all he said. Yet, his eyes told Olga that he knew his death was near. She saw the fear and grew more fearful in the knowing.
That was all well and good until they found some lace from the dress the girl was last seen wearing. Thomas and Olga knew one of the villagers had planted it, but it didn't matter their pleas were ignored. Thomas was tackled to the ground angry hands tearing his clothes off. A rope was brought in the house . A noose was made and thrown over the man Olga loved. Olga screamed and she fought but the men held her back. The whole while Thomas Bleakman refused to raise a finger against any of them. A noose was tightened around his neck. Some even tore at Olga's clothes. A slap came from outside a horse whinnied. Other men began to roughly touch Olga. The rope went taught and the snapping sound of bone and sinew came from Thomas' neck. Olga had been beautiful back then. Some of the men hardly noticed the lifeless body torn from the house as they took up positions around her.
Olga's husband was dragged through the front gate and out of sight. All the while a dark eyed man grinned maliciously at her now naked body. The man and a few others stayed behind and prepared a slew of evil thoughts. While many rode away in shame, but never stopped to offer the witch any aid.
Olga survived somehow. Bloody and battered she clung to life as she hung on the precipice of death. Clawing at the edges she lifted herself inch by inch, fueled by rage she raised herself. She screamed in defiance at the ever looming black pit of despair that marked death and meant her vengeance would not be fulfilled. As she sucked life back into herself the earth around the cottage became cursed. The trees died and became shriveled husks, grass turned brown and sunk to the earth. Putrid waters rose and ate away roads and flowers. And Bleakman's bog was born in Olga's oath of vengeance.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Sketch of the Week 2

So, I decided to try my hand at comics... not a terribly good idea, but maybe practice makes perfect. I hope you enjoy.


Original Sketch of Gus