Current Residence: The Boxing Ring|
Favourite cartoon character: Wonder Woman
Breaking AwayThere stands Icarus upon the hill,
With wings out stretched to the sky.
His eyes burn with fire,
See the madman in his gaze.
Below, the crowd calls out to him.
They mock his name.
They try to place doubt in his ear.
But this is HIS moment and he will fly!
Heart beating in excitement, he swallows his fears,
And with steely resolve, he takes the leap.
Downward he falls, wings spreading wide,
And the air doth lift this mortal skyward.
Up, up he soars,
Like a bird breaking away from the chains of Hell.
Freedom unimagined his now his.
He lets out a cry of sheer ecstasy.
But when man treads in the realm of gods,
He should remember how small he really is.
For Icarus mad flight to the heavens,
Is cut short by the jet engines of an unseen 747.
The Easter Journal
April 23, 1916 Easter Sunday
My family found it interesting that this year my twentieth birthday coincided with the rising of our Lord. I didnt really think much of it. Perhaps I should have been somewhat proud of the similarity, but it wasnt exactly the most pressing issue on my mind. Father got me a present this year, just like he said he would. He spent nearly all of his money to buy me a Winchester 1897 12-gauge shotgun that was smuggled into the country.
It was hard to come by ever since those damned Brits put up the imported weapons ban. But Father didnt want me to be stuck with some German piece of junk like everyone else. He insisted on getting me something that was American-made. You know how hes obsessed with the Yanks. If he could, hed pack up everything we had and go right to America. Hell, he already considers himself one with that
Easter 1916Seven centuries have passed, beneath the heel,
The agony of a nation, they begin to feel.
Extraordinary men, but men none-the-less,
The strength of Empire, the will put to the test.
Where once was a pen, now a rifle,
The flames of revolution, no longer will stifle.
Our great poet will pay the price,
But he\'s willing, it\'s his blood sacrifice.
Among these men are the builders of a nation,
But they will bring destruction, not just creation.
The city of Dublin resounds with a bang,
The martyrs march of, in chain-gang.
Among those taken whom are taken away,
are two faces that will long stay.
A country divided, not by the enemy,
But by those close, those who are friendly.
In the end, it will end in blood,
Of biblical proportions, just like the flood.
But in this flood there is no water,
This flood is one of Civil Warfare.
Rebel soldiers fought the crown,
Rebel soldiers, all fall down.
Here's another pic in my "About Boxing" series.
We’re fighting hard, and my opponent’s found, or rather, made, an opening. The uppercut’s a great punch to throw in close, and comes in at an angle; some fighters find it very difficult to block. She can get tremendous power behind the uppercut as well.
Here, she’s realized that I’m one of those fighters that’s not great at stopping uppercuts, and she’s worked hard to set up the punch—and POW! In a flash, she snaps her powerful right arm up, passing cleanly between my arms and concentrating all her impressive power right on my chin. This is the sort of punch that can really do some damage—sometimes even knock a gal out with one punch. Other times, it can hurt her enough that she’s an easy target for more punches.
When I drew this pic, I was remembering getting hit with a shot like this. In the actual fight, the blow knocked my head back, and did hurt me enough to slow me dawn, slightly dazed. And that was all the advantage she needed; she pounded me good for the rest of the round, knocking me down once and giving me a bloody nose. The following round, she resumed where she had left off, pounding me around the ring until the ref decided that I’d had enough. I’ve got better at stopping uppercuts since then, but it’s still a weakness of mine—and it was also her best punch—a formula that almost guaranteed that I’d get beat up.
Boxing is always a learning experience, and if you can’t take getting punched out now and then, you’re in the wrong sport.
Please, let me know what you think...
A lot of boxing isn’t done in gyms and stadiums, but for fun, in the back yard. The goal isn’t necessarily to knock each other out, but to have fun, give and take some punches, and work off some tension—or just enjoy friendly competition.
More often than not, the only noticeable damage will be a bit of red cheeks, or perhaps a lucky punch gives someone a bloody nose, but three or four rounds in the backyard doesn’t really mess someone up too bad. (A black eye or split lip is also par for the course, but not too common.) The idea is to have fun, without the serious demolition that occasionally results in a more intense fight. And bigger gloves are usually worn, 14 to 16 ounce, for the same reason.
It’s good clean fun, good practice, and doesn’t usually result in awkward questions in scholl or elsewhere. (Like "Who beat you up?".)
Here, Evalyn is ready for some good fun; these might even be 18 ounce gloves—and her punches will still hurt good. (Wouldn’t be any fun if the blows didn’t hurt..)
Don’t get a black eye…
It’s been some time since I’ve posted anything new, and it won’t be frequent, for now. Time has not permitted me to get DAZ and my new computer integrated. But, there’s pics I’ve not posted, and I’ll post some of them over time.
Likewise, I’ll probably repost a few pics with different captions. They won’t be part of a series, but stand-alone, each one saying something about boxing, or perhaps offering some insight on techniques, feelings, or the sport in general.
So, I am not silent on DevArt any more—I am (sort of) back. The first pic should be tonight or tomorrow.