Trick Or Treat >:D!!!!

A Prayer of Joy ✝️

May joy come with the same ease

As your mother tongue,

Something learned so young

It’s almost intrinsic.

May the sun and rain both

Remind you of our true home,

Shining and pelting down from

Where some earlier folks referred to as Heaven.

May God bless you

For all of your days. Amen.

I’m painting my nails to Queen and thinking about queer history (warning: hate crimes, violence, homophobia, transphobia)

I’m painting my nails to Queen

And thinking about queer history,

Bloodied,

Beautiful,

Weather-worn.

The artists that allow

My type in men to sparkle,

Gorgeous,

Pretty,

Free.

Don’t talk,

Save me.

Fights over love renewing

With people’s being

Free perceived

Threatening.

I want to break free.

moodboard: autistic bi nb man rupert giles

Untitled (warning: violence against marginalized & minority populations)

Sitting on the ground reading Emily Dickinson

Just me, God, and the ants

One on my ankle, one on my shoe

I’m sure I’m getting eat up

Oh well

There are worse things that bite

“Basket of Flowers,” watercolor on paper, 2025

Full post on my Instagram @ yvepaints

Pink Kitchen Table (warning: illness)

The Advent wreath is erect but cockeyed; it wasn’t lit during the recent season. The pink kitchen table is littered with masks, bottles, medical notes; doctorly linguistics beside Latin religiousness. Sundays smell like medicines instead of makko-powdered ether, rosaries in the windowsill with therapy aids. Images of Christ surround a rented bed, a vessel for healing holding a vessel, weakened.

Advent wreath lit,

Pink kitchen table littered,

Latin Sundays smell like makko.

Rosaries with images of Christ surround,

A vessel for healing.

Advent wreath lit pink

Kitchen table like Sundays—

Vessel for healing.

after “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller (warning: violence)

Heliotropic soul who smells of spring.

Sunshine hair with gold-leafed summer irises,

Bright, shining from alabaster flesh.

Chiseled hands over carved wood,

Sinew-plucked strings.

They would never draw blood.

Winter is a minimalist,

Warmed by our roseate love,

Thawed anew.

Your art is amazing for learning how to stylize features! (It’s gorgeous regardless but I thought I’d share what I’ve gleaned from it.)

Don’t mind him being pastel. I color coded the steps haha.

Oh my goodness!! I LOVE this!!! Thank you so much, glad my art is helpful in some way! 🥰

Reblogging my art with folk songs I feel are fitting part 2

after “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller (warning: violence)

Heliotropic soul who smells of spring.

Sunshine hair with gold-leafed summer irises,

Bright, shining from alabaster flesh.

Chiseled hands over carved wood,

Sinew-plucked strings.

They would never draw blood.

Winter is a minimalist,

Warmed by our roseate love,

Thawed anew.

Reblogging my art with folk songs I feel are fitting part 1

Untitled (warning: violence against marginalized & minority populations)

Sitting on the ground reading Emily Dickinson

Just me, God, and the ants

One on my ankle, one on my shoe

I’m sure I’m getting eat up

Oh well

There are worse things that bite