Here’s our second muumuu of the batch. Also with a floral pattern, but a bit of a different style this time. I had-drew these blossoms instead of making a stamp. I did copy-and-paste some of them, though. I also painted her toenails.
Moving on to the adults for this batch. She has a nice outfit, doesn’t she?
Look at that hair!
Our first adult for this batch. Her headscarf was fun to draw, getting the knot and the stripes right.
This is the character I’ve been playing in a Dungeons & Dragons campaign. Gwinnura (Gwin to her friends, Mistress Throthgunahr to others) is a dwarf woman who has taken the opportunity of her recent widowhood to do a bit of adventuring as she travels away from her late husband’s home and towards the distant dwarven settlement where her daughters now live. She was a member of the town guard before she married and afterward continued helping the village by training the young ones in the dwarven martial arts. Now she’s dusting off her fighting skills to earn a bit of coin on her way across the land, taking in the sights and finding new companions along the way.
Been meaning to draw this for awhile. She’s wearing her dissent collar. She looks cross because she’s dissenting. (Also, because I had dental work done and it suits my mood.)
Page 14 doesn’t have an image, so we skip on to page 15 from The Neighborhood’s Night by Juliana Catherine. This is the last illustration and the end of the book.
It’s not a completely happy ending because, even though Leena’s back in her own home, Amaya’s family lost their house. This is supposed to be a “tough subjects” series, so a not entirely happy ending is appropriate. But it’s not all bad because Amaya has sent Leena a letter saying how they found a place to live and are doing okay. They even sent pictures.
I made sure it’s the same couch and wall as page 4 so it’s definitely the same house. It comes full circle.
Over the last couple years, I’ve read several human interest stories about dancers or yoga instructors or whatnot that you might not think could excel at those skills because of their weight, or in one case because she had downs syndrome. But they do it anyway, and they do it well. So, I wanted to draw this lovely dancer who is clearly doing what she loves despite the challenge of her body size.
Here’s a color version of my faceless chef.
Here’s a chef. Playing with a different style.
Who ever said people need faces? Pft.
(BTW, I just finished watching a Doctor Who episode where the monster sucked off people’s faces through the TV. So. Faceless people. Yeah.)
Karen B. Jones - Illustrator 