The Pixel Hob

Sci fi/Fantasy image by

Renèe aka: cozzybob

This was victim to many pencil scratches, and is now dubbed 'the pixel hob' for unknown reasons. I was thinking about calling it 'the hill of many faces,' but the pixel hob seems to fit it. I'm not sure what it is, but the name was a random idea directly after drawing it, from this book about faeries that I own, and in the middle they have a series of faeries and hobs that have two faces (or many.) Soon I will come up with a poem for it. It seems very inspirational for one.

Published More than a year ago

Category Fantasy

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More by Renèe aka: cozzybob

The Story Book Boy

I used to go to vo-tech during high school, a career/technical/vocational school. I was taking nursing (which I ended up hating and dropping out of). I would eat lunch there, and me and my friend would usually sit at the same table everyday. One day while we're eating there was this guy--a big guy--who sat at the other end of our table and he pulled out a book. He was the thick-glassed dorky lookin' big guy type that looked a magnet for bullies. Note: that pretty much decribes me in girl form. Haha. He ended up eating at our table for many days straight on and he'd never move, just sat there reading for a solid half hour (we had long lunches at vo-tech). I never had the guts to ask him what he was reading. I was dying to know, because he was really into it. It was a paperback, a really thick one, and he was in the middle of it. Once when my friend was absent, he sat directly across from me. I found myself in a state of hysteria, I HAD to know. So I bent down low, peering under so I could read the cover. I couldn't make it out. The boy didn't see me, he was too preoccupied. I never made a move. I lost my chance that day because I never saw him again. At least not with the book. I wrote this poem based on that incident, thinking that I could drop it over the pages as I slipped by him and sign it as like a secret admirer type thing. But I never did. That's what happens when you never make a move. This is dedicated to my online buddy Azi-chan. I have a tradition of making a poem like this one every year for her and that thick glassed boy I never got to know. Originally written in 2002

Sasha Speaks

Sasha is a gorrilla. The theme to this is open for debate, since I really can't make up my mind. Haha. This is also dedicated to anyone who's ever watched a dog bask in the glow of the high noon sun--and joined him. Anyone can see the sky, but few ever touch it. Originally written in 2003

The Celebration of the Mirror

I wrote this one a while ago, but it's still one of my favorites. Surprised it hasn't gotten any comments. *sigh* Oh well... I like it. :p Originally written in 2003

Storybook Boy 2

I saw the old poem lying around one november night and thought that it needed a refreshing. It seemed familar to certain people, something that readers could identify with. I mean I hated the actual poem, but I liked the old friend feel to it. So I wanted to rewrite it. This is actually a rewrite of the original. It's completely different. I knew that, but I didn't care. I didn't see the answer in front of me. I dedicated it to Azi again because I had done so in the first one and thought it fair. I don't remember why I dedicated it to her--oh wait. Yeah I do. Azi came up with the name of the poem. Now that poem is a series so I guess the entire series is dedicated to her. Haha. Anyway she suggested that this is more like 'Storybook Boy 2,' that it's a continuation. Thus this lovely series was born. Now I have this wacky new tradition. Every year (just one a year, any month) I will add a new poem to the series, dedicated to Azi-chan for the name and the 'thick-glassed boy' for the inspiration. Let's see how many years pass by. This particular poem is very very dark. I don't know why, but I've been doing that recently with my work. It also ends with a period, claiming an ending. Is it really over? Is that one word really simple enough to end it? Of course not. I AM writing a new one this year after all. ~^ Originally written in 2003

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