It’s bleak, and cold. The fires of war have died out, leaving ash and char about the land. The destruction offers no comfort, no hope. Where buildings stood, there is nothing but brick and mortar crumbled and scattered about.
Something about musicians and how they focus on the feeling of satisfaction from either exteriorizing or connecting, and whether this observation applies to other fields or circumstances. 161 more words
Here’s a little teaser shot of a rather large monstrosity I have been working on over the past month. A Plague Worm of Nurgle. This leviathan will be the center piece of the army and I have a long way to go until I’m happy it’s finished, but for now here’s a shot of the head.