When the Stardust Trickles Down in Tears Out of Bloodstained Eyes
Created for the Award Tree's ~ Art With Text. ~ challenge.
A real mish-mash of stuff used here: four or five Microsoft Word documents with various fonts (Bahnschrift SemiLight SemiConde, ROG FONTS to name two), cropped, resized and colour-filled in Photoshop, everything then stuck into Photomatix Pro, tonemapped and finally combined with previously unused DABC #600, final flourishes back at the ol' PS lab using the Nik Collection add-on. Phew!
Spilling out into the night, the air slapping at their sweaty and flushed faces, the SeeBee defensive line - the one with the core, a Cap and a whole bunch of hooligans masquerading under the banner of Dan, variations one through eight – celebrated with a hoot, three hollers and a whole six-pack of gang-gum stylings designed to set the world on fire. The sheer levity brought about by these loveable, disgusting creatures of the gong, reeked of disillusion, straight-up bravado and all the squeaky, tin monkeys money could buy. “Don’t let the luster blind you,” pointed out one of the on-lookers, digging feverishly at the tapioca ice-cream bowl before her, “these cats can jam flat a back sass of the most gruesome kind, “again stabbing her parfait spoon deeper, “and all before eight on a Sunday.” The motor was left running. The dimes fell to the floor. The shoe shine boy folded his tent, bid a tra-la and sauntered down the alleyway, oblivious to all the temptations within.
When the Stardust Trickles Down in Tears Out of Bloodstained Eyes
Created for the Award Tree's ~ Art With Text. ~ challenge.
A real mish-mash of stuff used here: four or five Microsoft Word documents with various fonts (Bahnschrift SemiLight SemiConde, ROG FONTS to name two), cropped, resized and colour-filled in Photoshop, everything then stuck into Photomatix Pro, tonemapped and finally combined with previously unused DABC #600, final flourishes back at the ol' PS lab using the Nik Collection add-on. Phew!
Spilling out into the night, the air slapping at their sweaty and flushed faces, the SeeBee defensive line - the one with the core, a Cap and a whole bunch of hooligans masquerading under the banner of Dan, variations one through eight – celebrated with a hoot, three hollers and a whole six-pack of gang-gum stylings designed to set the world on fire. The sheer levity brought about by these loveable, disgusting creatures of the gong, reeked of disillusion, straight-up bravado and all the squeaky, tin monkeys money could buy. “Don’t let the luster blind you,” pointed out one of the on-lookers, digging feverishly at the tapioca ice-cream bowl before her, “these cats can jam flat a back sass of the most gruesome kind, “again stabbing her parfait spoon deeper, “and all before eight on a Sunday.” The motor was left running. The dimes fell to the floor. The shoe shine boy folded his tent, bid a tra-la and sauntered down the alleyway, oblivious to all the temptations within.