Etudes & Existential Ephemera

Scribbles and dashes.
Images and text by Vincent Nappi
Contact at: vincentnappiIII@yahoo.com

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http://dash-and-daring.tumblr.com/

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http://dashanddaring.blogspot.com/

Fraternizing with friends.

19 hours ago - 18

Even more…

1 day ago - 30

Even more…

2 days ago - 5

Even more…

3 days ago - 91
The Artificer “Even with all their intelligence, and even with all their eloquence, the Ravens could not wrest him from himself…”

The Artificer

“Even with all their intelligence, and even with all their eloquence, the Ravens could not wrest him from himself…”

4 days ago - 15

Even more life drawings…

4 days ago - 13
The Artificer

The Artificer

5 days ago - 3

More life drawings…

5 days ago - 6

More life drawing sketches…

5 days ago - 27
The Artificer & The Imago “He had spent too long among the trees and the stones and the dead leaves of the October Wood, wrapped too tightly within his thoughts, blind to the world and to all that which he could no longer ignore.  These woods had once been green and vibrant, and October was once June, and the ravens there had once not harried him with warning calls, but greeted him with song. Once there had been peace, once there had been life. He had forgotten it, he had fallen inside and as he closed himself, the wood had fallen into twilight. The leaves turned from green to gold, and the sun had locked itself behind a grey sky. Wind whistled through the now bare branches, and snow loomed heavy above that wooden spiderweb.  The songs of the ravens became warnings. He ignored them. He ceased to witness the beauty that had been, and shunned, it fell away.  A balance had to be restored. She would bring it, though she did not know how, or when, or even that it was her upon whom this task had been laid, but she cloaked herself within all the dreams of what could be, and shining there in the cold and the wind, made her way deeper and deeper into the October Wood…” 

The Artificer & The Imago

“He had spent too long among the trees and the stones and the dead leaves of the October Wood, wrapped too tightly within his thoughts, blind to the world and to all that which he could no longer ignore. 

These woods had once been green and vibrant, and October was once June, and the ravens there had once not harried him with warning calls, but greeted him with song. Once there had been peace, once there had been life. He had forgotten it, he had fallen inside and as he closed himself, the wood had fallen into twilight.

The leaves turned from green to gold, and the sun had locked itself behind a grey sky. Wind whistled through the now bare branches, and snow loomed heavy above that wooden spiderweb. 

The songs of the ravens became warnings. He ignored them.

He ceased to witness the beauty that had been, and shunned, it fell away. 

A balance had to be restored.

She would bring it, though she did not know how, or when, or even that it was her upon whom this task had been laid, but she cloaked herself within all the dreams of what could be, and shining there in the cold and the wind, made her way deeper and deeper into the October Wood…” 

6 days ago - 8

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