I came across the works of artist James R. Eads and was blown away not just by their sheer beauty but by the level of detail in each of them. While, like many artists, his process begins with a sketch, Eads creates these pieces, not with traditional tools like paint and paintbrushes, but with Photoshop. Don’t the final illustrations resemble modern-day Impressionist paintings?
As he shares, “I stick to Photoshop, I prefer the natural aspects and the fluidity of the tools it offers and I think it is the most closely related I can get to traditional drawing and painting on the computer.”
He goes on, “I think sometimes it’s taken for granted how much work goes into one piece, starting from the initial inspiration and sketches and then developing into something substantial. For me, it goes through hours and hours of changes and rarely ever looks like the first sketch – but there’s always some essence of it still visible in the final product.”
There’s so much detail to each of his works, you could stare at them for hours. Love that he shares detailed shots and even includes poems with some of them.
And At The End Was the Beginning
The world began to hum as the flowers and trees erupted with life.
And all the things formed into something wonderfully new.
And time disappeared, and the world was forgetting
And at the end was the beginning of it all.
And everything stood still in harmony.
And the world began to hum.
No More Birds Now
When I awoke things seemed fantastically new
a bird mocking frog, indeed, what a peculiar view
This dream like land is littered with blues
a paradise alive, lost if i choose
Twice haunting eyes watch in a slippery cave
my own demise must be a water filled grave
There’s a spot in this river where the magic runs thicker
with the fireflies abuzz making me sicker
Taunted and badgered by birds all the same
they glow and they bicker calling my name…
Trip the Light Fantastic
The wind brings life on this warm summer night,
pushing back further the return of the light.
We could trip and dance in nearly sixty six ways,
light and nimble in this space between two days.
But nights even like this must come to an end
so it’s in this moment I’ll choose to suspend:
the weightlessness of our final hours,
as we glide above these secret flowers.
We’ll find comfort in nighttime’s warm embrace
and have this be our go-to-place.
When things are looking dauntingly dark
here is the light we stole from midnight park.
Bedroom Wind II