The artwork of Siobhan Alcaide

Fish to water. Shibby to art.

Brain Dead June 27, 2010

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I haven’t spoken to Siobhan in a long while, so I don’t know what’s going on with her and her art stuff, but I have managed to find a couple of things on my PC that I’d forgotten to post up:

I’ve no idea about this picture…maybe Shib’ll add something in if she sees this…

And if you’d be so kind as to check out Planet Sajan to help out a buddy.  All artists have to rely on are their friends.

…until they get money or something.

 

Star Maiden June 19, 2010

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My final sketch for fairytales. This one is based on a Filipino Fairytale i looked up. their are different versions, so i did a few sketches and i think this one was my best one.

The basic story is, when a star comes down to earth they are in human form, and have to take something off? like wings, or a white gown.

in the stories i read, a man decides to steal whatever it is they need to get back to the sky so they can marry the star maiden.

(guess what software i managed to get back? :D)

 

Sullivan June 18, 2010

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Jiten here and after a highly disappointing game of football I am very bored.  Consequently, I thought I’d promote a friend of mine and Shib’s.  Said friend is Sajan Rai – a certifiable freak.  He draws and writes here and from it I’ve taken a story fragment that is comedy genius in its most idiotic form.  There’s background to it all, but I’ll let this describe it:

OKAY So basically my good friend asked me for story ideas and I jokingly said “write about a man with guns instead of arms”. He surprised himself by writing an oddly dark piece – http://baselesspride.wordpress.com/2010/06/08/armless/

I decided to write a less-serious piece to accompany his, so we could compare them after completion. Mine reads like a terrible, terrible sequel to his.

Sullivan

by Sajan Rai

Kaleidoscopes of colour slid over her face, the whites of her eyes flashing suggestively with neon lights. Sullivan had caught a glance of her from afar. She moved like a petal fluttering in summer breeze. He was drawn to her like a horny bee.

He said hello, so did she. They spoke a little – but neither knew what the other said. The deafening bass spoke for them as their hips connected. They danced for a while before she motioned for him to join her outside of the club. He twisted and turned his way through the maze of drug addicts, naïve teens and corporate wolves – careful not to brush against any of them. They weren’t like him. He was different.

The thumping drones became muffled as he stepped into the biting cold air,  scented with plumes of cigarette smoke.

She sat down and began rolling up.

“So what’s your name?”

“Sullivan”

She laughed. His erection died significantly.

“Nice name…you don’t mind flavoured rizla do you?”

“I don’t Smokeullivan”

“Sorry?”

He lowered his head embarrassed, accidentally making an odd squeaking noise as he breathed inwardly.

She laughed nervously and continued rolling.

“So where are you fromullivan?” he blurted out, noisily.

“North London…what about you?”

“Birminghumullivan”

Her giggle was hoarse and pig-like. “You’re funny…why do you keep doing that at the end of your words? I mean, sentences?”

“I can’t say…it’s a defect i’ve had since my Gullivans.”

“Gullivans?”

“Gunullivans”

“Sounds like a disease.”

He stared at the stars, the exclaimed, “Maybe Humanity is a diseaseullivan.”

The silence that followed was abrupt, odd and magical. She stood up with her rolled cigarette, it was lond and thing, like her figure.  She swept back her hair.

“Shit…I don’t have a light…do you have one Sullivan?”

“Yes I do.”

“What happened to the ullivan-“

But before she could finish he had swept back his sleeves to reveal that instead of arms he had two extraordinarily-sized guns – disproportionate to the rest of his body. He swung his shoulders clumsily to swing his right gun to an angle matching the height of her cigarette. Then he let blow. Her cigarette grew alight and smoke came off it.

“MYY GULLIVANS”

He waved them about and performed a dance that he liked to call the Twistullivan. She had left by the time he had finished, as had many other people who had been standing outside. He faced his empty audience as the sound of police cars faded into existence.

Apologies for any disturbance caused from your laughter…

 

Beauty June 12, 2010

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*sings*

Tale as old as time

Song as old as rhyme

Beauty and the Beeeeeeast

man… thanks alot jiten! how am i meant to beat that cheese?!!?!?!

 

A cheese June 6, 2010

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I made this:

Apologies for the nightmares…