Holy heck, artist, this is incredible! The heartbreak in Sam's hands, slumped shoulders, in that burnt-out scene, that do-not-cross. I don't know how you got all that loss into his posture, but you did. The double do-not-cross tape (window and door mirroring each other), which seems both natural and supernatural, crime-scene tape/salt-line--with Jess (oh, her ghostly shoulders, her hair) looking in. Flickering and distorting, new to the veil. Can't cross. Can't stay. Can't trespass among the living, if she even knows she's not.
Something about the way Sam's sitting, his legs, his feet in those boots--I like the way you've stylized so much; Sam's angles feel real (ist), he himself is a poem-Sam, like a haiku-image of aftermath. I like the stillness of of it, before the road takes him, ghost before ghosts. First love, away from family. Loss in a long line of losses.
I love the window, the shattering, fire-blown glass. The dark branches, the stars. The colors are like the colors of the veil, of shadows and salt and soot. (Of early SPN, too, and don't I love that palette so much.)
Thank you so much for this gift! I really love it so much, and I'm going to be looking at it a long time. (Makes me want to write something, too!)
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Date: 2016-03-15 08:19 pm (UTC)Something about the way Sam's sitting, his legs, his feet in those boots--I like the way you've stylized so much; Sam's angles feel real (ist), he himself is a poem-Sam, like a haiku-image of aftermath. I like the stillness of of it, before the road takes him, ghost before ghosts. First love, away from family. Loss in a long line of losses.
I love the window, the shattering, fire-blown glass. The dark branches, the stars. The colors are like the colors of the veil, of shadows and salt and soot. (Of early SPN, too, and don't I love that palette so much.)
Thank you so much for this gift! I really love it so much, and I'm going to be looking at it a long time. (Makes me want to write something, too!)