画风多变 杂食跨度大

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(以前一直因为懒得画线稿 这是我画的最多的一次_(:з」∠)_



From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory;

But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thyself thy foe,to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud burliest thy content,

And, tend churl, mak'st waste in niggarding.

Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.


Look in thy glass and tell the face thou vie west

Now is the time that face should form another,

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose uneared womb

Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

Or who is he so fond will be the tomb

Of his self-love to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother's glass,and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime;

So thou through windows of thine age shalt time.

Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

But if thou live rememb'red not to be,

Die single and thine image dies with thee.


Lo, in the orient when the gracious light

Lifts up his burning head, each under eye

Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,

Serving with looks his sacred majesty;

Serving with looks his sacred majesty;

And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,

Resembling strong youth in his middle age,

Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,

Attending on his golden pilgrimage;

But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,

Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,

The eyes,'fore duteous, now converted are

From his low tract and look another way:

So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,

Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.


Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?

Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.

Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,

Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?

If the true concord of well tuned sounds,

By unions married, do offend thine ear,

They do but sweetly chide thee,who confounds

In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.

Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,

Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;

Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,

Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing;

Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,

Sings this to thee,'Thou single wilt prove none.'


When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,

Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,

Will be a tottered weed of small worth held:

Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,

To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes,

Were an all-eating shame and thrift less praise.

How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,

If thou couldn't answer, 'This fair child of mine

Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,'

Proving his beauty by succession thine.

This were to be new made when thou art old,

And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.





现在只会越来越喜欢了 祝你幸福(*ˊᗜˋ*)


填坑 奶茶纸箱

接着画生绘₍₍ (ง ˙ω˙)ว ⁾⁾ ​









一个复健 最近很喜欢的纸箱这个表情👌🏻
可以说是非常可爱了 复原个高清头像
希望730之前凑个九宫格给他( ˘ᵕ˘ )


图力可以说是非常低了 而且是因为作业才画的……

(附过程 模特服装有参考)