Collaboration Project: Flower Paint Process

This is my third and last collaboration with Celia King, owner of the blog Mezher’d. A talented fashion designer who gives you tips on different body sizes. We teamed up to create a cute dress for a young girl. She sewed and designed the dress while I enhanced it by painting beautiful red flowers. So now i’ll carry you through my paint process.

1. So first I did a sketch of how I wanted the flower design to look.

2. Secondly I lightly drew my pattern onto the dress so that I can use it as a guideline while painting.

3. I then started applying paint to the vines first.

4. I then proceeded with the flowers. This was originally suppose to be the final look, but Celia advised me to add bigger flowers.

5. So I added more to the design.

6. Then finally I added extra vines as well as yellow spots in the middle of the flowers for detail.

7. And here you have the final look.

For this collaboration I had fun designing the patters for the dress and I think the overall look turn out perfectly. Celia did a great job creating the dress and I hope to work with her again.

Collaboration Project: Journey

This will be my second collaboration project where I teamed up with Shan Vitalis, the owner of Face tuh Face. A very talented individual who was able to illustrate her own character very close to my style. If you visit her blog post here, you will find out more about her character as well as the coloured version. She then asked me to incorporated her character into one of my stories. I had a lot of fun writing this story so I hope you enjoy.

JOURNEY

Illustration by: Shan Vitalis

Story by: Anietha Charles

The plane was about to land; Chanel quickly grabbed the side of her seat and braced herself before the wheels hit the ground. She then blew a sigh of relief as the plane finally came to a stop. She thought to herself that no matter how many times she travels, she could never get use to this, but at the same time she had to endure it because there’s no way she would miss this very special day.

Out of the airport she calls for a taxi. The driver placed her luggage in the trunk of the car then immediately drove off. She arrived at the neighbouring village, a very unfamiliar place. It’s been a while since she’s been here so she started to walk around aimlessly. Tired and possibly lost she decided to ask an old man, who was smoking near a lamp post, for directions. “Excuse me,” Chanel said as she approached him slowly. “I wanted to get to the country side but I ended up here, I took a taxi but he said he doesn’t go that far, how can I get there?” He raised his hand and pointed to the bus station. “Thanks,” Chanel said as she started to walk towards that direction. There were so many people, pushing and shoving. Chanel thought to herself how much she hated crowds; but no matter what she had to endure it. She finally got onto the bus and blew a big sigh of relief. The bus then started moving. Chanel looked outside the window and gazed at the scenery. The fresh air and warm breeze calmed her greatly. She’s almost there and she couldn’t wait, she then opened her handbag and stared inside. That special item she holes dear, she looked at it with a smile.

She stepped out of the bus with her luggage and walked straight ahead. After a long and tiring journey, she finally reached her destination. She knocked two times until a woman answered the door. “Chanel!” she shouted, greeting her with a hug. “Aunt Erica, it’s good to see you,” Chanel said as she entered her home. “Where’s Arona, I want to see her.” Erica said she was in her room. Without a minute to spare Chanel took the item out of her bag then knocked on Arona’s door. She opened it slowly and proceeded inside, with Arona’s birthday gift in hand.

Collaboration Project: Interracial Relationships

Hello and welcome to my first collaboration on interracial relationships with Roxanne Coombs, owner of the blog Things that Annoy and Things to Enjoy. If you visit her page here, it will show you a video where she interviewed numerous individuals on what they think of interracial dating. In the video some individuals told stories about how interracial couples they knew, met each other, so Roxanne asked me to illustrate these stories for her video.

An interracial couple of India and African descent gazed into each others eyes while they enjoy each others company by taking a relaxing walk in their village. She met him through a close friend, who she grew up with. Her friend introduced him to her and that’s where their romance started.

UWI students of African and Indian descent study for an exam before they head on over to class. It was love at first sight and they are now married with two beautiful daughters.

Indian and Chinese high schoolers wave goodbye to each other before heading home from school.

A Mulatto male who came in as a patient is examined by a Caucasian doctor who assures him of his health. After this encounter they are how happily married.

Enjoying themselves at a party, an Indian woman agrees to dance with a man, who is of mixed race(Indian and African). They now enjoy a long lasting relationship together.

My Experiences with this Collaboration 

This collaboration was both fun and challenging. A lot of time and effort was put into it and took me weeks to finish each illustration because there needed to be a certain level of detail such as illustrating each race and showing a clear background so that the viewer can have a better understanding of what’s going on within the picture. It was great working with Roxanne, she knew exactly what she wanted and guided me on what I should and shouldn’t do. So I hope to work with her again.

 

Short Story: When Blood Pours

“Aaron…Aaron wake up!” He jumped out of bed as he heard the sound of their voices shouting in his head. He looked around, no one was there. “That dream again,” he softly whispered as he placed his hand over his face. Removing his hand he then looked shocked, it was stained with blood. He quickly ran to the bathroom to clean his face. His aunt Stella then called him down stairs to have breakfast. “Good morning dear,” she said. “How was your sleep?” He violently shocked his head. “Nightmares again?” she asked with a depressed looked. “There are also scares all over your arms and feet, where you cutting yourself again?” He looked at his body, he didn’t even notice them. “It’s nothing,” he said. He frantically ate his breakfast then left the house, slamming the door behind him.

On his way to school he heard someone shout, “Hey, Aaron!” He froze in place then slowly turned around. It was just his friend, Carl. “What’s up,” he asked. Aaron shock his head then said, “Not enough sleep.” “Again?” Carl asked with a confused look on his face. “You’ve been like this for months now.” Aaron was about to say something when his eyes widen in shock. “They’re here,” Aaron said softly. Carl, confused, looked around. There’s no one there. “I have to go,” Aaron said as he ran away, leaving Carl behind.

Aaron sat in class tired and frustrated. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. He then looked at his arms and feet which reveals the scares. This is his punishment for what he did; for what he did to them.

He came home from school and went straight to bed. He didn’t eat or bothered to greet his aunt, he just wanted to sleep. He slowly closed his eyes and went into a deep sleep. In his dream, there they stood, one man, one woman. Scares appeared on their dark bodies. Blood then poured down their arms and legs. Aaron then remembered that incident he wholeheartedly regrets. “Why?” he asked. “Why wouldn’t you leave me alone?” Blood poured from their eyes; they approached him slowly, repeating what they say every night.

“Blood will rain, blood will pour; you’ll know our pain and so much more. We’ll never forgive you for what you did, good night’s sleep we will always forbid, but do not worry; for we will always be there for you, watching and following you, because we love you, my son.”

Short Story: I Want to be a Superhero

The hand strikes twelve, it’s already noon. I got up from my office chair and proceeded out the building. I walked through the crowd of people to get to my favourite restaurant to have lunch. Suddenly a man shouted, “Stop!” I turned around to see what was going on, everyone else did the same. “Stop that man!” He pointed his finger in the direction of a man in black with a large bag around his shoulder. He must have stolen something. I want to stop him, but he’s too fast. He then proceeded to take something out of his pocket. A gun, my heart started pounding. I quickly ducked and covered my ears as I heard the loud sound of the gun firing. Everyone started to panic and was running around screaming. I haven’t even eaten yet and stuff like this is already happening.

I eventually came back to my office, sat in my chair and gave a big sigh. “What’s wrong?” My co-worker asked. “Did something happen?” I answered and said, “A man fired a gun.” “Are you alright, did anyone else got hurt?” “I honestly don’t know.” I then faced the glass window and gazed at the sky, as I looked down something caught my eyes. A man beaten half to death lay on the ground with a twisted leg, torn cloths and blood flowing down his head. My eyes widen in shock. I want to help him, but before I could do anything two men came and dragged him into the back of their car then drove off. I just sat there, shocked and helpless.

I looked at my watch; it’s time to go home. As I walked through the streets I heard a high pitched scream. My body froze. What was that, is someone in trouble? I want to find out and help that person, but my body didn’t let me. Instead I turned the other way and pretend I never heard anything.

I finally got home. Exhausted, I lay on my bed and looked at the ceiling. Everyday there are crimes like robbery and murder, and the police are doing little to nothing. I want to do something, I want to help; I want to be a superhero. To fly around, protect and save everyone from harm. To create peace within the city, but that’s a fantasy which will never become reality. All I do is make up excuses rather than confronting the problems. All I can do now is curl up in my bed and slowly drift into dreamland.

Colours on the Wall Ch 8: Welcome Home

I watched the ceiling as I lay still; I then looked down by my bed side, Nuri’s not there. I gave a big sigh and stared at the ceiling again. Mother, with a plate of food, came in and said, “Arona, it’s been days, you need to eat something. Don’t worry; we’ll get you a new dog ok.” She then left the room. A new dog, Nuri isn’t someone you could just replace. I picked up the sketch book that was lying on my bed and gazed at it for a while. In a rage, I threw it on the ground then started to cry. All of this was my fault, because of my obsession with colour. I ignored what was really important; and now she’s gone forever. What is colour, what does it mean, how do I find it. None of that matters anymore when you don’t have anyone to share it with. Nuri, I am so sorry, you’ve always made me happy. I wish I had realized it sooner but to me, you are my true colour.

“The wind blows, the birds sing, every day it’s the same thing.” That’s what I would have said as I sit here under the old oak tree, but it’s not the same, Nuri’s not here and so I just lay back in my wheelchair. “The sun’s setting,” I said with a sad voice as I look over the horizon, but what’s this, the grass is moving, I tried to look closer. It was limping and looked messy. With wide eyes I gazed in total disbelief. It can’t be; it’s Nuri. I rubbed my eyes to make sure it wasn’t playing tricks on me. With tears in my eyes I happily pushed myself toward her. “You came back,” I said as I gave her a big hug. My mother, who was hanging up laundry, called my father to witness the scene. I squeezed her tightly, vowing to never let her go again. How she survived it does not matter. With a soft glance I look deep within her eyes then said, “Welcome home.”

Colours on the Wall Ch 7: Hang On

We went deeper into the cave until we stumbled upon a rocky cliff. “There’s nothing here,” I said sadly but I refuse to give up so easily. Nuri then started to whimper, I think she felt uneasy. “Don’t worry,” I said ruffling her fur. I then realized my wheelchair was moving. “Oh no,” I said, I’m too close to the edge. I immediately started to panic. Nuri bite my clothes in hopes she could pull me forward, but it was too late. “AHHHH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs when I realized we were about to fall. With quick thinking I managed to grab one of Nuri’s paw and firmly grip onto the rocky wall. “Hang on,” I said to her as we both hang from the cliff. My wheelchair’s gone and because of my disability I cannot pull us up. “Help!” I started shouting; I then looked down at Nuri. She was looking at me with sad eyes, I then started to cry. “Don’t worry; I wouldn’t let you go.” I tried squeezing her paw tightly, but I’m too weak, I could feel my hand slipping. Hang on; but in that split second, she was gone. “Nuri!” I shouted her name as I watch her fall; I began to cry even more.

“Arona!” I heard a familiar voice. It was father, but how did he know. That boy, did he tell him where we were. He quickly grabbed my hand, pulled me up and held me in his arms. He then asked, “Are you alright?” With tears in my eyes I hugged him tightly then said, “Nuri, she’s gone and it’s all my fault.” I buried my head in his chest with only the feelings of shame and guilt which keeps running through my head.

Colours on the Wall Ch 6: I Want To Know

A week later my dad drove me to this place once again. He helped me out of the car and we took the path leading towards the entrance. As he talked with someone who looked like a tour guide, Nuri and I explored. I took out my sketch book hoping that I’ll find something that interests me, but there were nothing, nothing but rocks that do not motivate me. I placed one hand on the wall of rocks and stroke it gently. I want to know, that feeling of happiness whenever I enter this place, but how can I achieve that, there must be something. Nuri then started barking. “What’s wrong?” I asked as I turned towards her direction. It was another entrance, which leads deeper into the cave. Maybe I’ll find something there.

I started to move closer until someone jumped me from behind. “Ah!” I shouted; I then turned around. It was a boy, I recognized him; he’s from my class. “Why are you here?” I asked with an angry tone. “Just visiting,” he replied. “Are you going in there? I don’t think you should.” “Why?” I asked again, angrily. “It just looks dangerous and…” “Don’t tell me what to do, you have no place!” I shouted cutting him mid sentence. “You think I can’t do anything do you, is it because I cannot walk? All you do is judge, that’s all you people do.” “All of that is not true,” he said with a soft voice. “Leave me alone, this is something I have to do.” I then called Nuri to my side. We entered the path way, leaving the boy behind.

 

Colours on the Wall Ch 5: Colour is…

“Nuri lets go!” I shouted as I proceeded out the door. Nuri happily came running with her tail wagging. “We’re going to figure out what colour is,” I said as I ruffled her fur. Dad said it could be anything so I looked around our yard and noticed the old oak tree that gives me nice shade. I immediately started sketching. Its broad trunk and tall branches is what I admire the most. It makes me calm and happy to sit under its majestic leaves. I then turned towards my mother’s flower garden. Their scent, shape and smooth texture always excites me. I looked around for more things to sketch until it has gotten late. At that moment, as I gaze upon my sketches, that’s when I realized it. “Nuri, I think I found it,” I said as I heard my mother calling, so I went inside quickly.

I showed my father the sketch book he gave me with all my drawings inside. “Well, how was it,” he asked as he sat in his chair. “Did you find what you were looking for?” “Yes,” I said with a broad smile. “All this time I did not care that I’m living in a gray world, until I experienced loneliness as I visited that rocky cave. It changed me and now I want to know what colour really is, but I could not understand, until you gave me this sketch book. Everything that I drew inside was something that I love and enjoyed. When I sketch and admired them that’s when I realized it, my interpretation of colour. They bring out positive feelings within me, like happiness, excitement and many more wonderful feelings. Colours are my emotions and I want to experience more. I want to sketch and figure out all kinds of colours. I want to go back to that place and figure it out on my own, will you take me there?” He extends his hand, ruffles my hair then said, “Of course I will take you there.”

Colours on the Wall Ch 4: What is Colour?

I lay on my bed this Sunday morning staring at the ceiling fan. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the ticking clock. I remembered that day, the day that changed me, the day when I started to think, what is colour? I looked down by my bed side, Nuri’s fast asleep. I never cared that I couldn’t walk because I may never have gotten Nuri, so I never cared that I could only see gray because Nuri was the same. I recalled a time when I was younger I ask my teacher what was colour. She gave a long definition but I still couldn’t understand, so I asked my mother. She could not say and then left the room. I never asked again, but I think I will, one last time. She came into my room and helped me into my wheelchair, I immediately asked, “Mom, what is colour?” She looked at me with a shocked face then said, “We talked about this didn’t we?” “Yes but I want you to describe it to me.” “Um…colours…are like…ah.” She looked away as if she was driven into a corner. “I…really can’t say, I need to get back to work ok?” She then left the room, again.

I then went into the hallway and heard mumbling in the nearby room. Dad’s painting. I went into the room and decided to ask, “Dad, what is colour?” He turned to me and looked straight into my eyes. His gaze knew I would ask this question one day. He puts down his paint brush and got up slowly, then proceeds to look for something. He came back and bent down next to me, holding something. “What’s this?” I asked. “It’s a sketch book,” he said. “I want you to take it and draw what you think colour is, it can be anything, use your imagination.” I looked down at the sketchbook and I understood. “Thanks dad,” I said with a warm smile. I then immediately left the room.