Share Your Old Art

[Nekomata]

Last night after the posting of the latest PMDXR page there was a nasty comment left regarding the art of one of our less-experienced artists in the PMDXR team. This is not the first time I've seen these kind of stupid comments on PMDXR or in general. They are counterproductive and can lead to people being afraid to share their work- or worse- make them quit altogether.

What many people don't realize is we ALL start somewhere. There are no bad artists on the PMDXR rotation. There are no bad artists here on PXR. We are all good artists. The only difference between our artists here is simple: Experience. When people comment on the changes in art quality I want to smack them in the face for expecting people to be the next Da Vinci overnight. Art skills take years, even decades, to hone and master. The good artists are the ones that never stop striving to improve- the ones who are never satisfied with their current level.

The only true 'bad' artists are the ones who think they're the best and have no reason to improve. That is no one here.

As a show of encouragement to the less experienced artists here, I'd like to dedicate this thread to sharing your oldest art. Go dig through the depths of your sketchbooks and computer files. Bring forth art that you had hoped would never see the light of day. Show the world that piece of art that you made that now makes you cringe. And most importantly: Show everyone how much you've improved. Show them it's possible to improve. Show them what happens when you ignore the naysayers and keep pushing.

We all have the potential to create amazing art. It's a journey and we are all traveling at different paces on infinitely many paths. For some, the road is slow and arduous. For others- the process is second nature. Many of us will never reach a place where we are completely satisfied. And it's better that way because art is a journey that should go on forever. Enjoy the trip. Look back and reflect upon where you've been and where you're going. You'll be surprised at how much you grow.

---

I'm on my tablet right now. I'll definitely get my old stuff up this evening. Please be prepared to bring protective eyewear. XD

[LKWayvern]

Urrrrgh...
Right now I'm in my dorm at college, all my really old drawn art is at my room at home three hours away... I'll dig it out when I visit next.
But for now, have the oldest fanfic that I have saved.
The Path to Where I Stand.
It was originally created as backstories for some of my OCs and became some weird interconnected epic of some kind. I'm happy I wrote it, because I learned a LOT, like how to juggle multiple perspectives(younger me thought five perspectives was a reasonable amount), but there's a lot of plot holes that made it really difficult to write later on.
Who knows. Maybe someday I'll rewrite it entirely. Out of all the characters in this story, I still love X a lot, and he's been worked into an original world at this point.

[Pokemon Trainer Sarah]

I don't have any of my super old art (been through too many computers) but here is the oldest stuff I can find.

Done on oekaki in 2004, when 300x300px seemed a lot bigger. XD

[Noblejanobii]

You actually posted this at a good time! I was showing one of my friends some of my old art last night. And as extra dirt I'll even throw in some of my older stories and poetry, because trust me I've come a lot further with writing than I have with drawn art.



Warning, eye bleach required afterwards and cellphone quality photos.

Art: (warning there's a lot)

Spoiler:

Stories:

Spoiler:

Titled: The Regime

Spoiler:

Evil is subjective. What one believes to be evil, may not be evil to another. That’s why there can be no peace, because no one can agree. North Korea is not inherently wrong, but they are not right either. The same can be said about the United States. I realized this before it was too late, but the same can’t be said about the others. It is why I am alive and they are not.

I listened quietly as I heard one of my three housemates stir. I was working underneath one of the three cars in my garage as she exited. I didn’t know where she was going but I knew what she was doing. Protesting the regime. Many teens do it nowadays. Most of them die as a result. But not my three. The Artist, the Musician, and the Preacher. They managed to avoid capture on multiple occasions. The one who just left was the Artist. Her murals adorn the city until the regime takes them down.

Titled: Fast

Spoiler:

”My car needs a new engine.”

“You just got one the other day. Why the new one?”

“I don’t know. Can’t see anything wrong with it but I can feel it.”

“Let me take a look and I’ll let you know. I don’t doubt your judgement. You racers know your cars. Let me just see what’s wrong and I’ll let you know if you need a new engine.”

“Thanks Kyo. You’re the only honest mechanic around here.”

“Only because if I lied you guys would know about it.”

The mechanic observed quietly as the 1969 Yenko Camaro SYC pulled in her garage. The driver was well-known in the street racing world but he knew very little about cars in general. It wasn’t his fault since all he needed was racing, but it looked bad if you didn’t know your way around a car in that world. That’s what Kyo was for. Pro mechanic and a famous ex-street racer herself. If anyone knew their way around a car, it was her. She didn’t cheat either and she ran cheap. You couldn’t get better.

Kyo Writer nodded to the driver, Raven Sincock, as he stepped out of the car. Kyo popped the hood and looked it over. This car was tricked out to the brim. The mechanic’s fingers tingled as she eyed the equipment inside. The engine was a 427 cubic inch 7.0 liter V8. It had 425 Horsepower under the hood with Z/28 suspension. And that was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the gadgets this thing had. Let’s just say, it’s very flammable.

“I think I see the problem.” Kyo tightened her gloves before reaching in. Her unusually small hand snaked into the engine and took hold. With a hard yank, Kyo pulled free a bag of coins. She held it out to Raven, whose eyes lightened to a little.

“My coin collection!” Kyo rolled her eyes.

“I don’t want to know. Here, go get me and you lunch, and I’ll give you a time up. Deal?”

“Fair enough.” Raven grabbed the keys to Kyo’s truck and headed out. Kyo pulled the engine out I’d the car and began to clean it out, a variety of gunk already staining it. She didn’t hear the rumble of an engine until it echoed in her garage.

“That was quick Raven. No line at Burger King?” Kyo called from underneath the Camaro.

“Excuse me?” That voice wasn’t Raven’s. Kyo didn’t know that voice.

Titled: Pokemon White 2 Nuzlocke (My Latest Adventures)

Spoiler:

First Entry!!

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello? Oh is this thing on? Well, hi whomever is listening to this. Saying you found this in the time capsule I'm going to bury in Floccesy Ranch, you either be a great explorer, live hundreds of years in the future, or both. Anyway, right now it's February 28, 2013. I'm so excited that I can't sleep and decided to do this instead. So why am I excited? Well, tomorrow I'm supposed to get my first ever Pokemon. I don't know what Pokemon I'll get to choose from, but if we get the usual Unova choices, Tepig, Snivy, and Oshawott, I want Tepig. Two of my heroes defeated Team Plasma two years ago with a Samurott and Serperior. Now I want to become a hero with an Emboar. Ooh~ Just talking about it makes me even more excited! Well, I better go! I'll let you know tomorrow how it goes. Night listeners!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Entry 2:

March 1, 2013

"Hey guys! Ok today was great! I got my first Pokemon, Archey the Tepig. Say hello Archey!" "H-Hiya!" "Yeah he can talk! Isn't that great! Anyway, right now I'm staying in Floccesy City Pokemon center. I would have slept outside, but it's pouring rain and neither Archey nor I want to get wet. While I was here i bought some pokeballs and plan to go catch some Pokemon tomorrow. Of course, I have to remember the rules, only the first one per route! Why is that you ask? Well, it's because recently some weird virus going around! So far scientists haven't found a cure, but now Pokemon, I stead of fainting, die! In order to try and prevent it from spreading too much, you can only catch the first Pokemon you see, with a few exceptions here and there. Anyway, it's getting late. Talk to you tomorrow."

Titled: Tri-Kappa Labs Chapter 1 (Version 1)

Spoiler:

The tube opened as a new born creature came out. It examined the new area. A factory. It looked around to see, it was not alone. In fact, many others like it were being produced as well. But not like it in the fact of species, but in the fact of what they were. However, this creature, was different. This one had a conscience. But it was not alone. A few others were the same way. It registered the area. It's mind was growing with each passing nano second. Soon it reached the check point. It was cleared and passed on. It was moved into a cell and give a name. Shaylava.

Titled: Tri-Kappa Labs Chapter 1 (Version 2)

Spoiler:

Tri-Kappa Labs
Chapter 1

I remember the days when life was easy, when I didn't have anything more to worry about than doing my homework, wishing for a boyfriend, and hoping the bullies didn't catch me. That was when life was easy, when it was blissful, and when the world was ignorant. It was great, but I never realized that until it was gone.

I stayed up late the night before that world was lost. I couldn't sleep, something forcing me to stay awake. I didn't know what it was but no matter what I tried, I could not fall asleep. I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the seconds tick by. I heard the clock downstairs, which I had dubbed Tickety, ring out, her song echoing throughout the house. Bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong…

Silence settled throughout the whole house after the twelfth chime had been heard. It was midnight and it was then that a pain struck me in my chest. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. I sat up in my bed and tried to discern what I was feeling. It was weird. I felt like I had just read the foreshadowing in a book. I knew something bad was about to happen, but I could not tell you for the life of me what. Right as I was going to lay back down, figuring I was just tired or something, I heard a loud CRACK! There was no mistaking that sound. It was a gunshot.

Several more cracks followed after the first. Then everything went quiet. There was no way I could sleep now. I got out of bed and walked to the nearest window. My sleepy neighborhood was quiet and dark. Nothing seemed to be able to disturb this peace. Had I not heard the gunshots mere moments ago, I could have sworn there was nothing wrong. Bang! Bang! Bang! I span around as I heard a loud banging against the front door downstairs.

"Open up!" a loud masculine voice yelled, "You are now under the rule of the Greek Riders! We are collecting tributes under the age of twenty-five to be sent to our laboratories where they will forever serve us for the betterment of the human race! If you do not produce a subject within ten minutes the house and all inside will be wiped from existence."

Terror caused my chest to seize up. I was the only person in the household under twenty-five, not to mention the only one actually in the house anyway. But I wasn't about to listen to the yahoo downstairs telling me what to do. I could legally drink and vote. I wasn't about to let him make my decisions for me like I was seven.

I put on a pair of shoes and grabbed a bag, packing what I could without having to go downstairs. For once I didn't regret having a bunch of water bottles up here. I heard the man yell from downstairs again. Seven minutes. I unlocked the window and lifted it up. The cold night breeze lifted up my short black hair from the back of my neck. It smelled like orchids, and if I wasn't in danger of death I would stop to enjoy it. I looked down at the porch maybe about four feet down from me. Planning my jump, I saw no one else below and assumed that either no one was below me, or I was making a fatal assumption.

I perched on the windowsill and once I felt safe enough, I jumped from the window. I landed on all fours on the porch, my right arm buckling underneath me, causing me to roll across the old wooden porch. It wasn't quiet or stealthy at all. I stood up quickly but I was covered in all sorts of injuries. I had to get out fast or else they would catch me. I made my way to the stairs and slid down the railing, my feet hitting the hardened earth before I knew it. Now all I had to do was cross two feet of open territory to make it to the woods. Simple right? Wrong.

I took off towards the woods, not thinking to look around before hand. It was only the notion to look left that caused me to spot a man pointing his gun at me. I heard a click then everything went black...

Titled: Tri-Kappa Labs Chapter 1 (Version 3)

Spoiler:

-Son of a Bench-

November 15, 11:59 PM.

I was working on a paper, alone in my home. It was eerily quiet but I had grown used to the feeling and paid no heed to it. After all, one does not become a veterinarian by procrastinating on assignments and being spooked by spine tingling silences. Plus, I had tried to fall asleep earlier but to no avail. That's a reasonable excuse to not sleep, right?

I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard the grandfather clock from downstairs chime out midnight. Bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… bong… Tickety, the grandfather clock, quieted down after that twelfth strike and I began to resume my work. A chill suddenly crept up my spine and I hesitated. The air around me suddenly felt tense. It didn't normally feel like this. I slowly closed the lid of my computer and placed it on the floor beside my bed. Tension crawled up my skin as I leaned over to the window beside my bed and parted the curtains.

My eyes scanned the scene, taking time adjust to the darkness. Trees rose up like the forest my backyard was. I could see the porch a few feet to the window's right and the hot tub about ten feet down. In the distance, tucked between two large oak trees, was a wooden bench on a brick platform. I sighed, scanning the area one more time. It appeared my nightly fears were getting the best of me. I started to pull away from the window when I saw something. A flicker of movement by the bench.

I leaned closer to the window and watched intently. It was several minutes before I saw it again. There, behind the right oak tree by the bench, I saw the shape of a man shift. Questions began to flood into my head. What was this man doing? Why was he here? I was so focused and confused that the sudden crack of sound nearly knocked me off the bed. I tumbled back a little and had to scrabble to sit back up. I barely was able to catch sight of the man duck behind my bench. There was another crack and I saw a flash of light from under the porch. There was no mistaking it. That was a gun shot!

My breathing started to come more quickly as the shots continued. This was crazy! Were they not worried someone would call the police? The idea dawned on me. The police! I slapped around on my nightstand for my cellphone. My fingers curled around the iPhone 5 and yanked it from its charger. My shaking fingers could barely type in my passcode and I missed the phone app twice before finally click it correctly. Once that was open, it was much less difficult to hit in the numbers and I could hear the ringing echoing through the speakers.

"911, what's your emergency?" the operator spoke up. I looked out my window at the scene and answered,

"Yes, this is Shayla Cortez, I'm at 105 Tesel Tree Court. There's a shooter at my house. He's under my porch and he's firing at someone in my backyard."

"And how are you able to see this, ma'am?"

"I'm in my bedroom on the second floor and I can see them both from my window."

"Okay, ma'am, I'm going to need you to stay close to the window but please try to stay out of sight. It was not be good for either party to see you. And-" I never heard what she said next. The window across the room from me suddenly burst open and I shrieked as a large bat-like creature crawled into my room through the shattered window. It growled and approached me faster than my eyes could catch, snatching my phone away from me and crushing it in its claws.

"Can't let you do that," it growled to me in a deep, gruff voice, "we tend to want to stay undetected." I shrieked again, causing the monster to frown. It sighed loudly and mumbled, "I was afraid of this." It took a step back then closed its eyes. Suddenly a low-pitched sound hit my ears and my eyelids felt very heavy. Everything slowly went dark as I felt my body hit the cushion of my bed. The last thing I heard was a male voice.

"Take her in."

Titled: For the Love of Jen

Spoiler:

“Name.”

“Gimea Gordons.”

“Age.”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Occupation.”

“I worked at a local speakeasy.”

“And why are you here today, Mr. Gordons?”

“Cause someone ratted me out! Little clothesline.”

“Elaborate please, Mr. Gordons.”

“Well, it started a few months ago…”

***

I was working at one of the local speakeasies in New York City as the bartender when a man came in looking for the Big Cheese. I wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t any of my business, see? So, I told him where to go. Couple of weeks later, the guy showed up again. He begged me to go talk to the Big Cheese for him, ask for more time. Now, I knew the drill. See, the Big Cheese, he’s more than just a speakeasy owner. Nah, he’s a loan shark. Works for the Mafia and all that jazz. People came to me all the time, not wanting to face the Big Cheese himself. I understand where they’re coming from. The Big Cheese, he’s a scary guy. I wouldn’t want to face him either if I couldn’t repay him. But, seeing as I worked for the Big Cheese, I wasn’t about to cheat him either. So, I told the guy that I couldn’t do that. He gave me that look that all those pitiful customers give me when I told them the same thing, then he walked to the back. I’m not sure how long he was in there, but it was longer than most. I had started to think I was going to have to clean up another body when that guy comes waltzing out of the Big Cheese’s office. Unlike everyone else that came out of there alive after facing the Big Cheese, he looked happy, like, really happy. My guess was, this guy was like a scoundrel or something, used his daughter to pay off his loan.

Next evening, in came this Flap. I was very confused, cause she didn’t look like a baby or nothing. This Flap, she looked like one of them girls that avoid illegal dealings as much as she can. I figured she must be lost or something, so I called her over and asked her what’s she doing here. She explained to me that her father had sent her here, something about making a payment. That’s when it clicked. This was the daughter of that guy from yesterday. Now that I knew who she was, I sent her to the Big Cheese, and she didn’t come back out the rest of the night. As I’m locking up that morning, I heard some crying coming from the back room. I’ll admit, I was a bit startled by the sound. You didn’t hear much crying in this speakeasy, unless Big Cheese hires a new girl, but this was in the wrong location. Against my better judgment, I went to see what was going on. I get to the back of the speakeasy and see there’s a door cracked open. I look in and see where all the hooch is brewed. Lo and behold, that Flap from earlier is in there too, sobbing like a baby.

“Hey, baby girl, what’s wrong?” I asked her. She looked at with these big, innocent blue eyes. Her face was stained from all the tears she had been shedding. I could tell she was scared witless, and the sight of me wasn’t comforting her much.

“M-My father…” she stuttered out.

“Yeah? What about him?”

“H-He told the loan shark I could make the best gin in New York. B-But I don’t know how to make gin.” That’s when I realized how bad this situation was. Here was this pretty girl, been sold out by her father, stuck in a situation just so her father have a chance to skip town while she gets killed. That was just low. I wasn’t about to let that happen either.

“I can make it for ya,” I offered. You shoulda seen the look on her face. She looked so happy; I thought she might hug me or something, for a second. So, I get in there and make a batch of good ole gin. It took the whole morning, but I got it done. I was about to go away, not expecting any reward like the Good Samaritan I was, when the girl insisted she give me some payment. I didn’t take anything much that first go round, I swear. I just took her necklace. It looked pretty nice, a shiny silver color, and I thought it could fetch a fair price.

I came back later that evening and go through another night of working the speakeasy. I can’t tell ya how proud I was to see people enjoying the gin I brewed. People seemed to like it more than the gin the Big Cheese brewed. On top of that, the necklace had fetched quite the nice price, so I had some extra sugar in my back pocket. Well, as I was closing up that morning, I heard that same crying again. I went to the back and saw the Flap again.

“What are ya still doing here, Flap?” I asked her when I saw her crying in the back again. She seemed surprised to see me again, like she had thought no one would hear her again.

“The man said the patrons liked my gin so much, that if I make more, he’ll clear more of my daddy’s debt. But if they don’t like it as much tomorrow, he’ll kill me and my daddy.” Guilt shot through me like a bullet. It was my fault she was stuck there, and now she couldn’t leave.

“That’s all right. I just make more, little Flap.” She wrinkled her nose at my calling her Flap, but she also seemed appreciative of my gesture. So I brewed another big batch of gin. Afternoon came, and I tried to leave again without payment, but the girl, she insisted on paying me. This time, I took her ring. It wasn’t better than the necklace, but it fetched a fair price too. So, I left, sold the ring, and then came back to my job that evening.

The third night, I didn’t even hear the crying, but I knew that chances of the girl having left yet were slim. The patrons were enjoying the hooch too much for the Big Cheese to let her go just yet. Sure enough, the Flap was still there. She didn’t seem surprised to see me that night, just as I wasn’t surprised to see her back there. I made the gin again without her even having to ask me. This time though, I thought about what I wanted from the Flap, and I had come to my decision when the time had come to receive the payment for my services.

“You see, little Flap, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been generous these past few nights, asking for only a little in return for the lot I’ve been giving you. I think it’s only fair that tonight I get a little compensation.” The Flap nodded her head.

“Yes sir, anything you want, sir.”

“I want you to marry me.” The Flap seemed a little taken aback by the proposal. I couldn’t blame her. It was an abrupt proposition. I gave her a few minutes to think it over before I pushed for an answer. “Well?” Now, I know what you're thinking, a bit much wasn't it? Well, let me pitch it to you this way. I am what many, in the world of justice and fairness, would refer to as a sleaze. The chances of my marrying well are pretty much none. So, the way I see it, this was a pretty decent woman. She was better than anyone else I had a chance of getting with, and since she was so insistent on paying me, I saw it as merely taking an advantage of an opportunity.

"Anything you wish," she answered me, seeming still a bit unsure about this, but letting it go through anyway. I smiled, satisfied with her answer. I made the gin again that day and returned that night to work my job. Now, me and the Flap both knew the Big Cheese wasn’t going to let her go so easily, so we knew if we was going to get married and get out of there, we’d have to pick the right time to do it. So, we kept up the usual charade of my making the gin, and we plotted how to get out of there. But, after a while, I noticed something odd. She seemed to be paying closer attention to me than before. I figured she was just becoming more attracted to my inner manliness, but I’m not sure anymore.

We would plot on ways to escape the Big Cheese. However, whenever I suggested a day I knew to be good, the Flap would just put it off. She’d convince me not to escape on that date, and we would push back the date even further. I was beginning to get really irritated with the Flap when it all came crashing down.

Today, I walked into the back to make some more gin, expecting to see my girl there like any other day. To my surprise, inside the brewery was not my girl, but a baby! I was starting to search the place when the door to the speakeasy got busted in. It seemed like all of the New York Police Department had come to take the Big Cheese and me down. I was thrown to the ground by some of those officers, handcuffed, and dragged to a patty wagon with the Big Cheese.

***

“You guys know the rest since it was you guys that brought me here.” I sighed a little and looked up towards the ceiling. “I can only hope that my little Flap is doing okay.”

“What did you say the name of your girl was again?” one of the officers asked me.

“Jennifer Cristal, but she liked to be called Jen,” I answered. “Why do you ask?” One of the officers shifted forward a bit, leaning closer to me, a serious look in his eye.

“Well, you see Mr. Gordons, Miss Jen was the one who ratted you out. When we invaded the speakeasy, we found there wasn’t any money at all in the place. It appears that she robbed you and your Big Cheese blind. Now we’ve got reports coming in from Chicago about a new snake charmer set up that they can’t take down, and something tells us that your Flap is the one behind it all. What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Gordons?” I shifted uncomfortably, the information hitting me like a cement block. My Flap had gone behind my back and ratted me out after all I had done for her.

“Why, I do have one thing to say,” I lifted my hands out of my lap and showed the child to the officers, “what the heck am I supposed to do with this baby?”

[Arrow-Jolteon]

From my old Deviantart account:


Drew this in the mid-2000s, and I was edgy

[LKWayvern]

...I nearly forgot. I drew art for TPTWIS.

[Fate]

Drew this in the mid-2000s, and I was edgy

So basically you were always good?

[Arrow-Jolteon]

So basically you were always good?

Aw, that's sweet of you ^w^

[Scytherwolf]

Here is the first thing I ever drew in photoshop:




Also, since I make plushies, I want to show you guys one of the first pokemon plushies I ever made when I was a kid:



I've also got a lot of super old MS Paint art. I'll see if I can find it to show you guys later.

[Nekomata]

Warning: Awful art ahead! xD Very old stuff.
Warning #2: LOTS of images cause I want to show change over time.

2010 - The Pre-Tablet Days

Spoiler:

I was apparently 99% spriting during 2011?

2012 - I think I got my Tablet around this time. xD

Spoiler:

Original Nightfall... and some of these are REMADE pages. xD It's clear which were made before tablet...

2013 - Tiny improvements? Maybe? NAaah. PRS Starts.

Spoiler:

^ Actually, this is probably one of the best things I did way back when.... DT Cover Attempt #2




PRS starts... Dear God.

2014: When the improvements finally become a bit more notable! Slowly! THere's a lot of bad, but I also began experimenting with painting more and slowly my style started to form.

Spoiler:

^ Attempt #3. I've since edited it for other things. I'd need to dig up the edits though. ^

2015 - I feel like this is where my general 'style' started to settle in.

Spoiler:

^ The first time I added an extra shading to PRS. "It'll only be for these few pages." Future self calls BS on that.

2016 - The year I decided to start making PRS look nicer. PRS begins to dominate art time since school was eating free time.

Spoiler:

2017 - Not as much art, plenty of PRS, and still improving. One step at a time.

Spoiler:

2018 - Present

Spoiler: