I've always been fascinated by the idea of converting photos into some kind of artwork. Here are some of my old attempts at converting my photos into sketch-like drawings. Opinions welcome, of course.
NOTE: This post is an entry to the Friday Challenge, which can be found here . The shooting star arced across the sky, leaving a trail that must have been miles long, shooting sparks in all directions. It was easily the longest shooting star he had ever seen, awake or dreaming. He was dreaming, wasn't he...? He looked around, seeing the children playing basketball with an inflated frog next door. Across the street, there was a horse and carriage in the driveway, instead of the Honda that was usually parked there. And he was getting ready to leave for work with bright, fluffy pink bunny slippers on his feet. Yes, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. He let the dream carry him across the street and around the block, and where there should have been an elementary school, he instead found the quiet neighborhood where his grandmother lived. If he hadn't already known he was dreaming, this would have cinched it, because her home was a forty-five minute drive away--more during r...
This is an entry into this week's Friday Challenge, which can be found here . I've written about Nicky Weird before . The challenge for this week? Write the Climactic Battle scene. Xarathon's rage grew as he stalked the halls of the abandoned high school, eight lesser vampires surrounding him. It's the Harvest Moon, he thought savagely, one of the most magically potent nights of the year. I should be sacrificing virgins, not hunting children. Indeed, it was forty years to the day since the Harvest Moon where he had cursed the entire Earth, covering up the appearance of vampires and magic once and for all. He should be ripping the still-beating heart from the chest of the leader of these savages, that Nicky woman, not wasting his time looking in closets and stalking empty corridors. Up ahead, movement, a fleeting blur as a teenager dashed across the lobby and into the gymnasium. With snarls of impatience, his troops dashed ahead, pursuing the youngster through...
Note: This is an entry into the Friday Challenge, which can be found here . "Doctor!" the nurse shouted. "His eyes are open!" A flurry of activity, lights in his eyes, hammer to his knees. Blood pressure cuff tightened and removed. Where was he? Why was he here? Thinking was fuzzy. "You've been in a coma," the doctor said at last. "But you're going to be all right now. Your nightmare is over." He was wrong. Cassidy stood by the corner of the building, peering around. He thought he had lost his pursuers, but he wasn't quite sure. He had ducked into a doorway, turned his reversible jacket inside-out, and put on a baseball cap to cover his eyes, and now he was trying to see if any of them had caught on. There. Two guys in business suits and shades, standing in front of the laundromat. They were talking quietly, turning their heads from side to side. Looking for him. Cassidy took a step back, and a deep breath. Then he steppe...
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