Evelyn

Artist Bio Page

I enjoy fictional writing and working with acrylic paints. I like when artwork looks realistic, like when there are bright colors that make highlights and darker portions for shadows to make a piece look exactly like a photograph. The more realistic the better. For my paintings I often am inspired by nature. For writing, it often comes from little things I see or experience, which gives me something to form a story around. Paintings normally take 1-3 hours to complete, and writings I often spend months on. When people call me an artist, I am fine with it. It’s kind of weird, because I feel more like a writer or a painter. “Artist” feels like something else, too general for me. In addition to art, I enjoy swimming, baking, and learning foreign languages.

I enjoy fictional writing and working with acrylic paints. I like when artwork looks realistic, like when there are bright colors that make highlights and darker portions for shadows to make a piece look exactly like a photograph. The more realistic the better. For my paintings I often am inspired by nature. For writing, it often comes from little things I see or experience, which gives me something to form a story around. Paintings normally take 1-3 hours to complete, and writings I often spend months on. When people call me an artist, I am fine with it. It's kind of weird, because I feel more like a writer or a painter. "Artist" feels like something else, too general for me. In addition to art, I enjoy swimming, baking, and learning foreign languages.

What is your favorite material?

I enjoy working with acrylic paints and fictional writing.

What is your favorite visual effect?

I like when artwork looks realistic, like when there are bright colors that make highlights and darker portions for shadows to make a piece look exactly like a photograph. The more realistic the better.

How do you get inspired?

For my paintings I often am inspired by nature. For writing, it often comes from little things I see or experience, which gives me something to form a story around.

How long do your projects take?

Paintings normally take 1-3 hours to complete, and writings I often spend months on.

How does it feel being called an artist?

I am fine with it. It’s kind of weird, because I feel more like a writer or a painter. “Artist” feels like something else, too general for me.

Other than art, what do you enjoy doing?

I enjoy swimming, baking, and learning foreign languages.

Writing Samples

“Whenever you’re ready,” Freya said.

Minka leapt forward, hands still in fists. Freya did the same, jabbing the wooden pole out at Minka, just a foot short of touching her chest. Minka dodged to the side as she continued to run at Freya. When Freya swung the staff towards her, Minka ducked, then immediately stood back up, turning and grabbing it, holding it steady so it couldn’t move. Then their eyes met, student and instructor, glaring at each other. Freya was fighting to get her weapon out of Minka’s grip, and after a few moments, Minka suddenly pushed down with her far hand and up with the one closer to her mentor. The staff went up and hit Freya’s jaw, and a small crack echoed out, little but strong, for everyone to hear.

I ran back up the driveway, stopping in the carport. Something in me didn’t want to go back into my house. Like a small, bitty part of me was whispering in a tiny voice that it was safer to be outside, away from the place that was the least dangerous building I could think of being in.

I ignored it and just went back in the kitchen. Something still said no, but it was all fine. My family was acting normal; Kate was texting someone, probably one of her friends or Jackson, her boyfriend; Josie and Lola were putting away the crackers and peanut butter; Maxton was showing Mom the lollipop he got for being the Star Student as she dried her hands on a towel.

I shook that weird feeling out of me as I went back to my bedroom with the family cat Sandra, who was let out of Kate’s room when she came into the kitchen.

Stop worrying! I told myself. It’s just a feeling.

Kiara woke to the sound of joyous shouts from the upper deck. Her heart jumped and she stood up quickly, leaving the little room behind. She ran up the stairs, the sun blinding her when she finally got up onto the deck. With a hand shading her face, she walked to the front, where the crewmen were cheering.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There was land ahead, and towering above it was a huge castle. A palace. Kiara was going to a palace. She was so astonished she took a step back. This can’t be real, she thought, pinching her arm. Nope, it’s real, she decided when the pain stung her arm where she’d pinched it. But how? How am I here? Now? In this world?

“It’s amazing, ain’t it, Kiara?” Captain Hornickel came over, interrupting her thoughts. There it was—his smile. A golden tooth gleaming in the late afternoon light, and she just couldn’t think right. She just nodded and turned back to the castle, studying it’s many perfect terraces and towers from afar. “Aye, men, get back to work! We still gotta get inta the harbor!”

“Yes, sir!” They all called back, rushing to their places.

Kiara’s head felt fuzzy, and she had so many questions. Too many. She couldn’t be convinced that it was actually happening. All those fantasies she’d read about. All those dreams she had had about being in another world. Her one wish, coming true. She was about to live it.

Bang, boom, bang boom boom!

The explosives had a sound as loud as thunder. Fire crackled and engulfed the city, charring and singeing all it could find. Screams and yells and panicked shrieks filled the night air, and the ground was getting soaked in blood and tears from the people of the city. The bangs of bombs and the constant screams of pain and despair continued for hours, until finally, they ceased as nearly everyone fell dead or unconscious, breathing in ashes, killing them slowly as they lie there.