Dark & Macabre

Nothing here is cute.

Skulls with flowers growing through them, blades, maces, pentagrams, relics lifted out of old paintings. Bold blackwork, heavy line, and no softness offered as an apology.

This is evening ink. It reads best in low warm light, on the places a sleeve plays with — the upper arm, the shoulder, the thigh, the back.

Two weeks of something with an edge, then back to whatever Monday requires. Nothing to explain to anyone.