My live caricature drawings from 2017

It Begins

She is hungry...

Black and White Caricatures (free hand traditional, and digital)

Nick Diaz (UFC Fighter)

Conor McGregor (UFC Fighter)

Some black and white drawings I did of friends and as a warm up exercise, taking 4 to 8 minutes to complete. The bottom entries were from my iPad where I drew the subjects using only my finger as I am too cheap to buy a stylus that is worth having.

Cartoon Dragon (black and white sketch)

Got to draw a theme featuring a guest riding a dragon. I chose Drogo from Game of Thrones. I was all excited to share this photo until I realized that yet again Apple changed all their software and now I have no idea how to import photos from my phone to my computer because of how they determine file sharing would be easy for the rest of the world. Thank you Apple for ruining my day. Anyway, here some art.

NEWS (Nov 29 2017)

On our way to December. Finished a Dragon Themed Caricature drawing for a new customer, and got scheduled in for two drawing gigs for the holiday season. Its fun having time to do your own thing during the winter, but my favorite part about this time of year is having the availability to write, and study. The new project I am working on takes on conflicts involving the many social struggles that which we are battling now in our real world today. I was always told to write what I know, and in doing that I am mirroring the insane circumstances unraveling in the news: the many plights, and slimy scandals taking over every facet in our societies. Art is watching, art remembers, and perhaps this story will give us a bitter taste of our own humility when it is said in done... But it takes place in another world, so if its too much, you can just pretend that its all fantasy. Im trying to force myself to write as much as possible without my brain over heating, while I still have the time to do so. Yesterday it was a 1000 words, today I hope to do more. I will also update my blog more often, trying to do that adult stuff, you know. We shall see what tomorrow brings. Until then, back to work. Write, Study, Workout, Draw, Highfive each other. Happy Holidays!

News (Nov 25 2017)

I have to put aside my historical fiction to work on something new. Been studying for over five years now trying to sculpt that project and it is still nowhere near ready. Now I'm exhausted. Started writing a science fiction thriller and it is a breath of fresh air to be working on something that doesn't have so many rules to abide by. I have so much yet to learn in this art. Reading every day, and learning new techniques. Now I am trying to apply what I have learned. Science fiction was my original love. However much I so enjoy history, any dramatic telling can get tangled up in the details of what was happening then very quickly if one tries to pursue it too carelessly. So I am taking my time with that. Might even salvage elements from the projects I was working on in the past, and work them into other pieces to come. Nothing is a waste of time; everything we do in the pursuit of our goals is worth it. Every now and then one must plant new seeds and watch it grow from all of the rich ingredients one has collected over the years. That is what I am doing now. Time builds strength. Nothing is a waste of time. Keep studying, keep writing, lay down the story, shine it up later, and worry about the business of it all when the time comes to burn stress on that. For the moment, just have fun. If you lose the joy, you lose the heart, and your story will begin to fall apart quite quickly.

News (Oct 10 2017)

I had wanted to publish one story per week for the month of October, but my working schedule interfered with those plans, sadly. however, I have finished one hell of a solid short story that I will be sharing before halloween. It is a 4,300 word story in the horror/suspense category, but I added a few elements of fantasy because that is truly my genre by nature. I don't want to give away too much about it, but it will be fun, sexy, and dark. I wanted to step away from my very serious Historical Fiction to write something completely different,  something with fewer restrictions—I really needed the break. So I went and created a world that we could explore ever deeper should we be interested in such a journey in the future. Short stories are exciting for me, but my demanding lifestyle and all-consuming primary projects make it a difficult task to complete, and to polish a single story in a short window of free-time. As some of you may know (those of you who are probably actually taking the time to read this, and I thank you for it) I travel the country for a living. My big road trips are a full-time job all on their own, but then I spend much of my life on this planet sitting at an easel drawing caricatures, and however I do love the job, between it and travel, and writing, and studying, I get a tad bit inundated. My ambitions are hungrier than I can even handle half the time, but I will keep trying to produce and share new work wherever I can break away from my life to do so. My next live drawing event will be in Georgia, and then I get to go back home to finish some drawing commissions, and polish up some stories. After, I will finish my work season in Jacksonville Florida, and begin a grueling month of writing in November: attempting to complete the first draft of a new novel in thirty days. This Halloween I will be sharing my last short story until I finish all of that. If you guys like it, give me some feedback and perhaps we will develop that universe further. Some interesting side facts about the upcoming short: it was inspired by a song by one of my favorite rock bands, In This Moment, and the book by Laurell K. Hamilton Guilty Pleasures. Hope you all enjoy it. Thanks again, Blessed Be!

Sincerely:
Jarce ArtThor (author)
Jeffrey Arce

Goddess In Flames: Black Silhouettes

Swabia, 1558

Her words were passionate, but plagued with melancholy and confliction as they came, “The world has so many realms,” she said, pondering it all. Her voice was bodied with the strength that wrote every bit of her very being, but there was a sense of hurt, and love, and childlike spirit woven within. A girl was in there still who just wanted to be a girl, but the hard world wrought her into steel, it made Adalia sad when she thought on it. “In the East they recognize four elements: Earth, Fire, Water, and Air. In the West there is Heaven, and Hell, and Earth is only a dead thing to be pillaged, and exploited. Where my family comes from there is Earth, there is sea, and Sky. But the imagination… here,” she touched her on the forehead, it made her blush; she was such a shy thing then. “There is no end here. In the mind you can go anywhere… You are free.” She was so beautiful.

A shrill scream tore Adalia from her sleep. Her father’s irascible wroth had been woken in the late hours. It was an unwise thing to do. She listened. They went quiet for a moment. She shrunk under her bed covers, fearing what might come next. Then she heard her mother mewling, and begging, and through the walls the sounds of her suffering bled through. Her mother quailed, and her father cursed. Tears drew from Adalia’s eyes. The blows were so deafening in the night they echoed off the boards that walled her room. The neighbors would be waking soon. If she were going to get away she would need to move fast. There was nothing that could quicken the lust hungry monster that was in her cruel father like the disappointment that her mother drew out of him. Quickly she wriggled herself into her dress and pulled on her boots. Then she escaped out her window and she ran, crying. Her father would only storm into her bedchamber to find it empty long after he was finished objurgating his wife for whatever great offence she could have caused him. There at the doorway he let go of his rage, falling into confused despair. He looked at the swollen bruises on his knuckles, and listened to the waning whimpers still clinging to her lips. It was her fault, he told himself. The girl was as wild as her mother’s treachery.

Adalia did not know where she was going, she just ran. On and on she went, hurtling into the foliage, and up an old road until she was lost in the wilderness. The forest never scared her, not so much as did her father’s quick temper. Her home was so much like a prison to her, and in the woods she felt the breath of freedom. The critters went scrambling from her as she walked. She could not see them, but she knew when they were near. She always had a sense for such things. Animals seemed to love her; at least she liked to think so. Nothing ever hurt her out there. It was her place to go to feel safe. But after a time she saw something strange. There was a fire; its brilliance was swelling through the threaded branches. Wind burbled around her as she went to see where it was coming from.

She found the home at the top of the hill. Of course, it was the Eisenbergs. They were a queer presence in the city, mostly because they were scarce seen in the city. A new family, with a keen sense for business and art, it had fed them well since they had first arrived. She heard laughter, so she tentatively moved closer. Adalia suddenly found herself crawling in the brushes trying to see. The big cabin house was in the way. Her dress snagged on a limb from a bush. She yanked if free to the startling scream of a tear ripping in her skirt. It sounded so loud out there. But no one heard it. Twigs and dry leaves crushed and crinkled under her. She went on, moving as deep as she would dare to go, but the ranch was still so far away. A pile of rocks eclipsed the fire, but she could see figures swinging round and round. They were his children. The silhouettes bounded about so graceful, so happy. It was a queer thing, as they always seemed so miserable when found in public seeing, helping their father sell off his stores at the market square. But here they were, in high ecstasy. Capering, and singing strange songs, on the strangest night they could ever choose to do so. It was a cold night, and the end of harvest, said to be the darkest season of the year. A chill went down her spine, but for Adalia it was all so very exciting. She wanted to know more about them. She wanted to taste this joy… this freedom. Here, before a lively hearth they whirled, and cavorted under the stars. Their black impressions burning against the fire as it flailed like a golden banner made them appear as though they were weightless, like they were flying without wings. And Adalia watched with coveted eyes, ensorcelled, stolen with the wonder of a fly caught in the web of a seductive black widow. That night was October 31^st, and she would not soon forget it.  

October 2017

This October I want to take everyone to a new universe: a dark realm blossomed from a dangerous part of the imagination. Creating haunting shorts inspired by the insatiable hunger of Man. Beginning in the first week of October, I will begin sharing these strange tales. Explore the plights, the dire, and political strife of Tiamat, and behold the dawn of an eternal season of harvest.