...looks like morning in your eyes
But the clock's held nine-fifteen for hours...
Ahh, Nora Jones. It's been a long, long day interspersed with medical drama of the Not Good Kind. Had to chase my housemate off to a doctor with her father in case he had gangrene after a motorbike ran over his foot some days ago. Am hoping and praying everything's gonna be just fine; situation's complicated enough as is without more fuel chucked onto it.
So, just because we've really needed an angel, this is in honour of that. It's an old piece done as a commission three years ago; the client specified 'black and white and sort of unfinished'. Watercolour, colour pencils, ink and a wee bit of crayons.
Sometimes, strange places have strange angels unawares.
...Man I'm tired. I think I need to go to sleep soon and put the sketching ideas on hold for now.