Finished Commission!

I’m so excited to share this! I created a personalized commission that was later printed on canvas. I can finally post it because the gift has been given. This commission was very special to me, since I love the Studio Ghibli franchise and Spirited Away is one of my favorite films of all time. Yay calligraphy!

(And yes, that is Japanese in the background, and I got the translation from a reliable source. It’s a translation of the original Japanese subbed film versus the quote being from the English dub). (The only thing I didn’t make was the background, which was free for public use).

Zeniba Quote Commission


Poster Example

This is a poster I was tasked to create in one of my graphic design classes. I used the mountainous scene as a way to lead the eye and kept it simple for readability. I wanted a organic/boho feel, so I found a specific font I felt exemplified that feel for the more eye catching information. I’m unsure of my trees… but it can always be edited/critiqued!


Adahla – The Forest Nymph!

Adahla Image

Adahla is a forest nymph I imagined for my forest concept art. This is the concept art for how she would look. I imagine her being very sassy and just loving life and having fun messing with people! Very much a trouble maker this one!

Hansel and Gretel Character Redesign!

I’ve just had a fun project in which I got to redesign an already existing character pair! I chose to do a more adult version of Hansel and Gretel. Rather than just candy, it’s… candy flavored liquor! That, and I have a background I’m working on separately in which you see a witch bartender poisoning their drinks. Soon to come once I finish up my final semester in college.


No Problem – For my Grandfather.

My grandfather Gordy was my inspiration, my first best friend, my partner in crime during my early years, and so much more. I lost him to cancer in April 2016. I miss him more than anyone can know and I still cry over the loss I feel in my heart. This is dedicated to him, and made for my grandmother.


No Problem
At age three,
you introduced me
to your morning tunes.
“Good morning,
Good morning!”
Your cheerful jingle
was less than appealing
for a kid who only wanted
to sleep in. You’d offer
me three things for breakfast.
“We’ve got Cheerios,
cheerios, and cheerios.”
I think you annoyed me
just to bring my smile out
even when I was exhausted.
I spent more time
at your house than my own.
I’d lie underneath
an old, rickety tractor
and hand you tools from
a worn and rusty toolbox.
It was a task you assigned to me,
My white clothes
would get dirty,
and I’d often lean up
too fast and bump my head.
My mother would panic,
but I would never cry.
All you had to say was,
“No Problem.”
At age seven,
we went camping
with grandma almost
every weekend. I knew
your phone number
before I knew my own.
Dairy Queen was our
common hang out place.
We’d take long drives
and explore,
never getting lost.
Once, on our way home,
it was close to Halloween
and you promised
to get a pumpkin for us.
We chanted over
and over,
“Pumpkin, pumpkin, pumpkin!”
It annoyed grandma to no end.
She pleaded for us to stop,
and all you had to do
to calm her from your
maddening melodies
was turn around, look to me,
and go,
“No problem.”
At age thirteen,
you were nine hours away
from me. We could only
visit during the summer.
The Black Hills
hid you deep within the
slopes of dense forest.
We found our way to you,
and stayed for a week.
My bedroom was home
to a John Wayne cut out
that would stare at me
while I slept. It was creepy.
You laughed at me.
Yet, you picked it up
on the second night,
headed toward the door,
and said,
“No problem.”
At age nineteen,
you were only two hours
away now. Although
I was thirteen hours from
home. They told me
you turned yellow one day.
Someone had taken out
all of your guts,
examined them,
and put them back,
like some sick operator game.
As if taking out the parts of you
that make you operate correctly
would tell them everything
they need to know about you,
and why they needed to keep
you around for just
a little bit longer. So I
could say goodbye
to my first best friend.
Two months later,
it was Christmas.
I came home, finally,
and was tearing up
at the mere sight
of you, as you had lost
the step you once had
from following me around
on our old adventures.
You wrapped your arms
around me. I choked
back tears, and said
nothing. You said,
“No problem.”
I’m twenty-one,
I miss you. You left
us last April, and
it’s close to Christmas.
Once I arrive
you won’t be there
to help me
tease grandma,
eat ice cream,
offer Cheerios…
I still have a bear
that you always
kept in the camper
for me to use consistently,
as yet another way
to annoy grandma.
He dances and sings
Teddy Bear by Elvis.
I sometimes sit on my bed
stare the bear in the face
and press its paw.
He performs for me
a song we often sung together
over and over.
My nose tingles
and my eyes overflow.
I wipe away my tears,
set the bear back in
his dusty place on my shelf,
and say,
“No problem.”

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