GrahamTG
GrahamTG  ·  5 months ago

Content Warning

Experimentation continues. Tried to add some texture to the background by using volumetric lights. Hopefully gives it the more painted look that I'm aiming for. Models by G Duffy.
Whether it works or not is kinda irrelevent either way I had a blast putting it together 😀 #Lightwave3d#SciFiArt
Michael Whelan
Michael Whelan  ·  4 months ago

Content Warning

LAST LOOK BACK (1989)
Acrylic on Watercolor Board - 36" x 24"

The way to the far horizon can only be made by transcending the red hill...beyond is only sky. 1/4

#sciencefiction#scifi #scifiart #illustration #robertheinlein

Portrait of author Robert Heinlein standing boldly in profile to face the twilight of an alien world. White hair recedes back on his forehead. A thin mustache traces his upper lip. He looks debonair, with the air of a mystic as shadow falls across the back of his coral robe. He holds a cane loosely in his right hand; his weight doesn't rest on it. Baked by strange light, papers and a half buried book lie discarded on the rippling sand behind him. A shiny silver rocket, suggesting a Hugo award, points skyward. Caught in a moment—either taking flight or landing, with wings unfurled—an owl curls its talons about a curl of branch set on a plaque. Just beyond the shore where Heinlein stands, pearlescent blue water undulates and churns. A pair of islands, flanking him on either side, sit the horizon. A striped moon hangs over a mountainous peak on one isle; a square arch sits on a longer stretch of land to his right. Higher up, two gibbous craggy moons hang overhead.
Portrait of author Robert Heinlein standing boldly in profile to face the twilight of an alien world. White hair recedes back on his forehead. A thin mustache traces his upper lip. He looks debonair, with the air of a mystic as shadow falls across the back of his coral robe. He holds a cane loosely in his right hand; his weight doesn't rest on it. Baked by strange light, papers and a half buried book lie discarded on the rippling sand behind him. A shiny silver rocket, suggesting a Hugo award, points skyward. Caught in a moment—either taking flight or landing, with wings unfurled—an owl curls its talons about a curl of branch set on a plaque. Just beyond the shore where Heinlein stands, pearlescent blue water undulates and churns. A pair of islands, flanking him on either side, sit the horizon. A striped moon hangs over a mountainous peak on one isle; a square arch sits on a longer stretch of land to his right. Higher up, two gibbous craggy moons hang overhead.
Portrait of author Robert Heinlein standing boldly in profile to face the twilight of an alien world. White hair recedes back on his forehead. A thin mustache traces his upper lip. He looks debonair, with the air of a mystic as shadow falls across the back of his coral robe. He holds a cane loosely in his right hand; his weight doesn't rest on it. Baked by strange light, papers and a half buried book lie discarded on the rippling sand behind him. A shiny silver rocket, suggesting a Hugo award, points skyward. Caught in a moment—either taking flight or landing, with wings unfurled—an owl curls its talons about a curl of branch set on a plaque. Just beyond the shore where Heinlein stands, pearlescent blue water undulates and churns. A pair of islands, flanking him on either side, sit the horizon. A striped moon hangs over a mountainous peak on one isle; a square arch sits on a longer stretch of land to his right. Higher up, two gibbous craggy moons hang overhead.
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