Concept art sketchbook work.
Daniel Tiller 2012.
- # arab
- # daniel tiller
- # drawing
- # dune
- # james jean
- # mech
- # portrait
- # sketch
- # Daniel Tiller
- # 2012
- # artists
- # Daniel
- # Tiller
- # Love
- # Art
- # Magick
- # Concept Art
- # Paint Illustration
- # illustration
- # design
- # graphic
- # street
- # wacom
- # tippet
- # henson
- # monster
- # acrylic
- # pen
- # oils
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- Posted 7 months ago
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What did Katherine do to deserve that?
she was a bad, bad gurl
AIDS Death #54,911
The last time I saw you, Steven, you were huddled in bed,
blankets piled over your body,
you were shaking and shivering so much
there was nothing that could stop it;
your hands bunching the pillows,
your legs threshing the sheets,
you screaming over and over Lord I want to die
please just let me die.
And I sat cupping your head as if that could do anything
as if there was anything I could do
feed you tea hold your hands give you more blankets
crawl into bed and lie on top of you;
my stomach on your back
my arms around your stomach;
anything to give you warmth, just a little bit of warmth.
It was summer; it was New York; I was back in town and
you were dying. I could sit in waiting rooms
I could help you in and out of cabs and up and down stairs
I could cook for you and wash your dishes and
get you shrimp lo mein I could wrap your neck
with towels soaked in warm water
talk with you about our favorite poets and
that little magazine we used to edit and
how you wanted to be back in Indiana and
everything was over, everything we knew was over.
It was summer, it was New York, it had been a year
since I had left; and you had buried your lover and you
had lesions all over your body and when I sat in bed with you,
pulled your shirt up to give you a massage
and felt your spine between my fingers
you started crying about the last time anyone had touched you
and how your parents were always yelling,
coming to visit and yelling,
blaming you for everything,
and all your friends had deserted you except Michael and Anne;
and Anne lived in Boston and MIchael never touched you.
Now Michael calls me and I still do not know why I am healthy
and you are dead. Then Michael tells me how you died;
in a hospital, alone, 32. Yes I can picture that.
I can picture that or the night we sat on your fire escape;
it was summer, a different summer; we were smoking a joint and
you were telling me about the man you had just met whom you really like, you really liked him a lot.
Was it safe to kiss, that’s what you wanted to know. Steven,
isn’t that just the most awful question: is it safe to kiss?
-Robert KaplanI just can’t.
Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words:
Dear God,
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick.
I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.
Love, Meredith
We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.
Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, ‘To Meredith’ in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, ‘When a Pet Dies.’ Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:
Dear Meredith,
Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away.
Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.
Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I’m easy to find. I am wherever there is love.
Love, God
Don’t say you’re too busy to reblog this.TEARS.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
This photo says it all. During Navy Seal Jon Tumilson’s funeral yesterday, his trusted canine friend Hawkeye guarded him one last time.
omg me creys thats horrible..
heartbreaking
Before departing for a tour in Afghanistan, First Lieutenant Todd Weaver left a note to his 9 month year old daughter. Todd Weaver was killed on September 9, 2010 by an improvised explosive device. This is the letter to his daughter.
Love that lives on.
