Glenn Sparks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reorienting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
jikan_network2021-08-25 07:47 am
reorienting) wrote in jikan_network2021-08-25 07:47 am
Entry tags:
video | un: furfeathers
[Sometime around the late afternoon on the 25th, the video opens up to an old desk, its surface occupied with a sketchbook with a metal cover (engraved with a butterfly design,) some assorted graphite, a few long-bristled brushes, an ink stick, and an grinding stone/well. A bit of water is put off to the side.
[After a moment, the camera shifts a little, one tentacle reaching for the comm, and adjusts it for a more aerial view while keeping the pages in focus, and another, just in the peripheral view at the top, visible with a singular eye. Until it manages to shift out of frame. Another tentacle opens up the sketchbook, first with a partially-done drawing of a smiling woman. It turns to the next pages at a leisurely rate, between different sketches of a few people he's met in rather detailed (and, to the discerning eye, affectionate) renderings. Between them are different drawings of flowers, insects, the odd yokai, an even a few different ayakashi (such as the minobi.) One thing that's of note, perhaps, is that Glenn seems to use some unique, delicate shading in places to denote a sense of movement, even if the subject itself looks relatively still.
[After a moment, he turns to a blank page and starts to draw anew, the sound turned up enough to pick up the rhythmic scratching of graphite to the paper. After a moment, he speaks up.]
...So, I'm not feeling the most social, even though it's my birthday. But if anyone wants to watch me or chat while I'm drawing for the night, please feel free. If you wish to communicate, please use audio, at least, so long as it's within your comfort zone to do so. It's just easier for me to notice if you speak up rather than message, since, well.
[He turns his head a bit to look at the camera.]
I'm not going to really be looking at the comm.
I estimate I'll be drawing for at least the next four hours before I call it a night.
[He purses his lips, cheeks turning a little ruddy.]
And, um. If anyone enjoys this sort of thing, let me know. I could.. do it more often.
[Not expecting anything, he turns back to the drawing that's rapidly taking shape with careful, practiced movements.]
[After a moment, the camera shifts a little, one tentacle reaching for the comm, and adjusts it for a more aerial view while keeping the pages in focus, and another, just in the peripheral view at the top, visible with a singular eye. Until it manages to shift out of frame. Another tentacle opens up the sketchbook, first with a partially-done drawing of a smiling woman. It turns to the next pages at a leisurely rate, between different sketches of a few people he's met in rather detailed (and, to the discerning eye, affectionate) renderings. Between them are different drawings of flowers, insects, the odd yokai, an even a few different ayakashi (such as the minobi.) One thing that's of note, perhaps, is that Glenn seems to use some unique, delicate shading in places to denote a sense of movement, even if the subject itself looks relatively still.
[After a moment, he turns to a blank page and starts to draw anew, the sound turned up enough to pick up the rhythmic scratching of graphite to the paper. After a moment, he speaks up.]
...So, I'm not feeling the most social, even though it's my birthday. But if anyone wants to watch me or chat while I'm drawing for the night, please feel free. If you wish to communicate, please use audio, at least, so long as it's within your comfort zone to do so. It's just easier for me to notice if you speak up rather than message, since, well.
[He turns his head a bit to look at the camera.]
I'm not going to really be looking at the comm.
I estimate I'll be drawing for at least the next four hours before I call it a night.
[He purses his lips, cheeks turning a little ruddy.]
And, um. If anyone enjoys this sort of thing, let me know. I could.. do it more often.
[Not expecting anything, he turns back to the drawing that's rapidly taking shape with careful, practiced movements.]
no subject
Thank you very much. I would greatly appreciate it.
You need not say much if you don't wish to. Just.. knowing I'm not alone is enough.
[Ages and ages ago, his birthdays were treated as holding significance by the most important person in his life. He supposes that's why he's doing this tonight. And having spent so many birthdays alone, it's nice to have company in some capacity.
[He continues to draw and feel out the details he wants, relying on memory for each segment. He really should pick up taking reference photos again, but everything and everyone has been so new and novel that he's forgotten to.]
no subject
Well, why don't you invite someone to spend the day with you? Not over the network, but in person, I mean.
no subject
[As that probably what happens when one spends the majority of one's time alive, alone. And with an increasing feeling of loneliness.
[He also realizes he's been pack-bonding with just about every-fucking-person he's met. It's overwhelming, and, in some ways, quite stressful.]
no subject
It's normal to be a bit scared and wanting company, right?
no subject
[Hopefully the hint gets across without him having to outright spell it out. It still hurts to acknowledge some days. His cowlick twitches, angling itself downward a little, its feather-like barbs flattening against each other, just barely in view of the camera. Unlike that small tell, his voice is still calm.]
I've been entirely self-reliant for longer than I've ever been around people.
It's overwhelming.
[That there are so many good people here. That so many of them are treating him so kindly. He doesn't know what to make of it - doubtless the other shoe's going to drop and he's going to hate it. It's terrifying.]