I've not devoted a heap of time to these creepy crawlies yet but expect that I will....
Here are some examples with a couple of colour schemes:
Gensestealers:
Hormagaunt:
9.19.2007
Tyranid - Part 1
Ah, space bugs. Not the most original idea for sure, but still a great looking army that has a huge range of modelling options. Genestealers in particular evoke warm memories of Space Hulk. A great game all by itself.
I've not devoted a heap of time to these creepy crawlies yet but expect that I will....
Here are some examples with a couple of colour schemes:
Gensestealers:
I've not devoted a heap of time to these creepy crawlies yet but expect that I will....
Here are some examples with a couple of colour schemes:
Gensestealers:
Necron - Part 1
This Necron army started off being a 'quick-fix' army that I wanted to get painted quickly so that I could start playing 40k with a good friend. I hope he links images of his Salamanders army - his technique puts my stuff to shame.
I found that while the Necron were an army that were relatively easy to paint, I soon became absorbed in their background. I still find that their codex is is just...creepy. Even now, I use an image of one of the C'tan looking down upon the ancient Necrontyr civilisation as my desktop image at home.
To date, this is still the only army that I have a fully painted (but small!) 40k army. I still intend to do more with it.
Scarab Swarms:
I found that while the Necron were an army that were relatively easy to paint, I soon became absorbed in their background. I still find that their codex is is just...creepy. Even now, I use an image of one of the C'tan looking down upon the ancient Necrontyr civilisation as my desktop image at home.
To date, this is still the only army that I have a fully painted (but small!) 40k army. I still intend to do more with it.
Scarab Swarms:
Necron Warriors:
Immortal:
Destroyer:
Necron Lord:
Eldar - Part 2
I love my Eldar. I hate my Eldar. It is perhaps a byproduct of the love I have for these models and the fluff that surrounds the alien species that I don't ever seem to be happy with the colour schemes and paint jobs I do on them. I have changed colour schemes a couple of times and still can't seem to make up my mind. Despite this, there are a couple of constant ideals that I have always wanted to maintain:
a) That the aspect warriors would not have their own colour schemes (as per the traditional colours. Blue for Dire Avengers, green for Striking Scorpions etc). I want a consistent colour scheme throughout the whole army.
b) The colour scheme itself was - at least in the main - to be of a dark colour. This was in order to create a strong constrast to the inevitable Harlequin unit that would be painted in the traditional riot of colours.
c) Wraithbone colouring would play a part in some of the uniform. Usually, wraithbone is done in a cream colour (as per the Ulthwe colours), but I tend to either an eerie blue or a grey.
The below photos are from my first painting attempts for Eldar (a couple of years old now) and even now I sometimes think I should return to it:
Dire Avenger (new model):
Howling Banshee/Striking Scorpion (old models):
Farseer:
a) That the aspect warriors would not have their own colour schemes (as per the traditional colours. Blue for Dire Avengers, green for Striking Scorpions etc). I want a consistent colour scheme throughout the whole army.
b) The colour scheme itself was - at least in the main - to be of a dark colour. This was in order to create a strong constrast to the inevitable Harlequin unit that would be painted in the traditional riot of colours.
c) Wraithbone colouring would play a part in some of the uniform. Usually, wraithbone is done in a cream colour (as per the Ulthwe colours), but I tend to either an eerie blue or a grey.
The below photos are from my first painting attempts for Eldar (a couple of years old now) and even now I sometimes think I should return to it:
Dire Avenger (new model):
Howling Banshee/Striking Scorpion (old models): Farseer: 
Druchii - Part 2
The below is not a GW model, but a Dark Elf done through the 'Dark Heaven - Legends' series (I think!). The GW range suffers greatly from a lack of character models - especially the sorceress models, which I think often look ludicrous. The below model I thought fit in quite well with the evil power that these women are supposed to radiate. Note that this is an old colour scheme compared to what I am doing at the moment:
9.11.2007
A Memory of September 11.
I remember that night clearly in my mind.
Often people will claim after the fact that they had a feeling - a moment of prescience that hints at things to come. I make no claim to such powers, but even now years later I recall a distinctly eerie tone to the shadows that were cast upon the road as I made my way home.
I was late returning that night - much later than was usual for me then. By the time I pulled into our street the last rays of sunlight were bleaching the colour from the day. The sense of unease that had pursued me home intensified when I first caught sight of our house. Instead of being greeted with windows filled with golden light, only a cold darkness greeted me. The house seemed empty of life, which was unusual as I did not live alone.
I got out of the car and made my way to the front door, naturally only finding my keys in the last pocket checked. The unease became dread as I realised that the door was unlocked, and as I opened the door quietly became tinged with fear at the deadly silence that enveloped me as I stepped inside: the radio that I habitually left on whenever we left the house as a security measure was silent. Fearing that we had been, or were being, burgled (this had happened to us before) I quietly put down my bag and made my way into living room.
Nothing had been touched - there was no mess that had defined the previous invasion of our home. The TV, video and other prime targets of theft were all as they should be. A mixture of relief and confusion flowed through me at the realisation that the house hadn't been broken into. I went back and retrieved my bag from the front door, then made my way to my bedroom. I dumped my stuff on my bed and then went to check the the rest of the house for signs of ...anything. The first thing I did was check the room next to mine.
In that instant, my life changed forever.
What I remember most about that moment was the scream of shock I emitted (and upon reflection years later I am almost embarrassed at the unmanly nature of the sound). Lying sprawled upon the floor of his bedroom was the body of my brother. A series of images hit me very quickly that took me what felt like ages to assimilate: the rifle that he and my father often went shooting with cast aside besides him, a bottle of rum on his desk, the cover of Metallica's "...And Justice for All" half soaked in blood scattered on the floor, the blood and what I found later to be brain and bone matter soaking into the rich blue carpet of his room. Most of all, I remember his face - peaceful, but with lips and skin that was tinged with a slight blue discolouration.
I knew that my brother was dead, and that he had taken his own life. In that knowledge, I found some clarity of purpose and managed to get myself going. The panic was replaced with the beginnings of grief. I knelt beside him, and felt inexperiencedly for a pulse which I could not detect. I remember touching his cheek and kissing his forehead, thinking that this might be the last time I get to be near him.
I remember rushing from the room to the phone and dialling '000' (the equivelant for 911 in Australia). I remember explaining what had happened to the voice at the end of the line and being told that someone was on their way. I remember explaining that our house was hard to find and that the ambulance should watch out for our driveway as it was very steep (we lived at the base of a mountain - a dirt road with neighbours far away). I remember the voice asking me if there was anyone there with me (there wasn't - my mum was on holiday with her husband out of state, my dad was on a work conference in Sydney (we lived in Melbourne - so an hour away by plane) and his girlfriend at the time was with a friend of hers whose daughter had been in terrible car accident the day before - the daughter was the same age as my brother and I later learned she died the same day as he. Though not close, they had been friends.). I remember the voice asking me for the number of a friend that could come over and keep me company. I remember giving the voice the phone number of two friends I went to high school and uni with who happened to be closely aged brother and sister.
Despite our house being hard to find (or so I thought) the ambulance made excellent time and was there within 10 minutes, or at least that is what it seemed. I have two specific memories of that ambulance crew: firstly that they approached me in a manner that indicated very clearly that they thought I might have been a danger to them (I don't blame them at all for that precaution, mind you) and that later, when they were checking the vitals of my brother, that one of them made the comment that they thought they felt a pulse. There was no pulse after all, it turned out.
Later memories of the same night - explaining to my dad over the phone that his son was dead, the arrivals of both the police and my friends who had obviously been called (and I can't imagine how that conversation must of went). I remember the girl (I won't mention her name here, but both friends are still very close to me now) asking me how my jeans had gotten so dirty. It was obvious to me even then that she was in a certain state of shock as well - as the dirt in question was dried blood that I must have knelt in when with my brother. The ambulence team took my brother's body away.
Much later, my dad's girlfriend picked me up and took me to her house. I do not remember that happening. I do not remember drinking a whole bottle of Jack Daniel's that night to the point that I passed out (but I've told many times that I made quick work of it and threw much of it up).
My brother left a note, someone told me. I remember looking around for one at the time but not finding anything then. I've read that note, though I believe the police eventually took it as evidence.
I know why my brother took his life and my part in it.
Living with the knowledge of the why changed my outlook on life completely.
My brother died eleven years ago today. September 11, 1996.
Often people will claim after the fact that they had a feeling - a moment of prescience that hints at things to come. I make no claim to such powers, but even now years later I recall a distinctly eerie tone to the shadows that were cast upon the road as I made my way home.
I was late returning that night - much later than was usual for me then. By the time I pulled into our street the last rays of sunlight were bleaching the colour from the day. The sense of unease that had pursued me home intensified when I first caught sight of our house. Instead of being greeted with windows filled with golden light, only a cold darkness greeted me. The house seemed empty of life, which was unusual as I did not live alone.
I got out of the car and made my way to the front door, naturally only finding my keys in the last pocket checked. The unease became dread as I realised that the door was unlocked, and as I opened the door quietly became tinged with fear at the deadly silence that enveloped me as I stepped inside: the radio that I habitually left on whenever we left the house as a security measure was silent. Fearing that we had been, or were being, burgled (this had happened to us before) I quietly put down my bag and made my way into living room.
Nothing had been touched - there was no mess that had defined the previous invasion of our home. The TV, video and other prime targets of theft were all as they should be. A mixture of relief and confusion flowed through me at the realisation that the house hadn't been broken into. I went back and retrieved my bag from the front door, then made my way to my bedroom. I dumped my stuff on my bed and then went to check the the rest of the house for signs of ...anything. The first thing I did was check the room next to mine.
In that instant, my life changed forever.
What I remember most about that moment was the scream of shock I emitted (and upon reflection years later I am almost embarrassed at the unmanly nature of the sound). Lying sprawled upon the floor of his bedroom was the body of my brother. A series of images hit me very quickly that took me what felt like ages to assimilate: the rifle that he and my father often went shooting with cast aside besides him, a bottle of rum on his desk, the cover of Metallica's "...And Justice for All" half soaked in blood scattered on the floor, the blood and what I found later to be brain and bone matter soaking into the rich blue carpet of his room. Most of all, I remember his face - peaceful, but with lips and skin that was tinged with a slight blue discolouration.
I knew that my brother was dead, and that he had taken his own life. In that knowledge, I found some clarity of purpose and managed to get myself going. The panic was replaced with the beginnings of grief. I knelt beside him, and felt inexperiencedly for a pulse which I could not detect. I remember touching his cheek and kissing his forehead, thinking that this might be the last time I get to be near him.
I remember rushing from the room to the phone and dialling '000' (the equivelant for 911 in Australia). I remember explaining what had happened to the voice at the end of the line and being told that someone was on their way. I remember explaining that our house was hard to find and that the ambulance should watch out for our driveway as it was very steep (we lived at the base of a mountain - a dirt road with neighbours far away). I remember the voice asking me if there was anyone there with me (there wasn't - my mum was on holiday with her husband out of state, my dad was on a work conference in Sydney (we lived in Melbourne - so an hour away by plane) and his girlfriend at the time was with a friend of hers whose daughter had been in terrible car accident the day before - the daughter was the same age as my brother and I later learned she died the same day as he. Though not close, they had been friends.). I remember the voice asking me for the number of a friend that could come over and keep me company. I remember giving the voice the phone number of two friends I went to high school and uni with who happened to be closely aged brother and sister.
Despite our house being hard to find (or so I thought) the ambulance made excellent time and was there within 10 minutes, or at least that is what it seemed. I have two specific memories of that ambulance crew: firstly that they approached me in a manner that indicated very clearly that they thought I might have been a danger to them (I don't blame them at all for that precaution, mind you) and that later, when they were checking the vitals of my brother, that one of them made the comment that they thought they felt a pulse. There was no pulse after all, it turned out.
Later memories of the same night - explaining to my dad over the phone that his son was dead, the arrivals of both the police and my friends who had obviously been called (and I can't imagine how that conversation must of went). I remember the girl (I won't mention her name here, but both friends are still very close to me now) asking me how my jeans had gotten so dirty. It was obvious to me even then that she was in a certain state of shock as well - as the dirt in question was dried blood that I must have knelt in when with my brother. The ambulence team took my brother's body away.
Much later, my dad's girlfriend picked me up and took me to her house. I do not remember that happening. I do not remember drinking a whole bottle of Jack Daniel's that night to the point that I passed out (but I've told many times that I made quick work of it and threw much of it up).
My brother left a note, someone told me. I remember looking around for one at the time but not finding anything then. I've read that note, though I believe the police eventually took it as evidence.
I know why my brother took his life and my part in it.
Living with the knowledge of the why changed my outlook on life completely.
My brother died eleven years ago today. September 11, 1996.
9.08.2007
So why do it...?
So I've posted a bit, and set up a few things and now I've had a little time to reflect on why I'm doing all this. Those of you that know me in the real world know that I work in an industry that is thoroughly devoid of imagination - and imagination is something that I cherish.
I've often thought over the years what is the one thing that I really wish to achieve as an individual before I pass onto the next stage of being. The one constant answer that I give myself is that above all other things, I want to write a book. I love books, I love reading and it seems suprising now that after all this time I've never considered it as something to take seriously.
But being a realist, I've always tempered this desire with the knowledge that I have materialistic needs that need to be met in the short term, including a wife and hopefully (hopefully!) a couple of children (and won't that topic be an entry all by itself).
So, then. This site is the first step in most likely a long road of achieving that goal.
The one constant piece of advice I have heard given to budding writers goes something along the lines of:
"Stop bloody talking about it, and get out there and do it. WRITE!".
And that, dear reader, is exactly what I intend to do.
I've often thought over the years what is the one thing that I really wish to achieve as an individual before I pass onto the next stage of being. The one constant answer that I give myself is that above all other things, I want to write a book. I love books, I love reading and it seems suprising now that after all this time I've never considered it as something to take seriously.
But being a realist, I've always tempered this desire with the knowledge that I have materialistic needs that need to be met in the short term, including a wife and hopefully (hopefully!) a couple of children (and won't that topic be an entry all by itself).
So, then. This site is the first step in most likely a long road of achieving that goal.
The one constant piece of advice I have heard given to budding writers goes something along the lines of:
"Stop bloody talking about it, and get out there and do it. WRITE!".
And that, dear reader, is exactly what I intend to do.
9.06.2007
A Whole New World....
Well haven't I just gone IT crazy....Not just content with my own website, I've gone and created my own forum board as well. It's just one big party here at Sigil....Check out the link section, or below:
http://sigil.freeforums.org/
Will most likely use it for things that just don't fit here, including work on a novel that I've had banging around in my head for ages...
http://sigil.freeforums.org/
Will most likely use it for things that just don't fit here, including work on a novel that I've had banging around in my head for ages...
9.05.2007
Iron Hands - Part 1
'Warhammer 40k' started as a spin off from the fantasy world that had already been created by Games Workshop in the mid eighties. The 40k universe really is its own being now - and a major part of that mythos is the space marine. An army that I initially shied away from for various reasons (they were too 'common', a friend was painting them, etc etc), they have over time called to me to the point where I have started (albeit slowly) a force of Iron Hands.
This 'chapter' of space marines is one of the founding legions - one of the original armies of space marines that were created by the Emperor. When painting space marines, I specifically wanted to paint an army that already existed in the mythos (unlike my Eldar craftworld which is a work of my own) so that I would have something to remain consistent to.
The Iron Hands despise weakness - to the point where they encourage the replacement of human body parts with robotic equivelants.
I'm very much looking forward to tackling some terminator armoured marines and perhaps even a massive dreadnought.
This 'chapter' of space marines is one of the founding legions - one of the original armies of space marines that were created by the Emperor. When painting space marines, I specifically wanted to paint an army that already existed in the mythos (unlike my Eldar craftworld which is a work of my own) so that I would have something to remain consistent to.
The Iron Hands despise weakness - to the point where they encourage the replacement of human body parts with robotic equivelants.
I'm very much looking forward to tackling some terminator armoured marines and perhaps even a massive dreadnought.
Eldar - Part 1
Here are some Eldar Dire Avengers that I've been working on. I fell in love with these aliens when I first spotted the original art concepts by Jes Goodwin way back in some early editions of White Dwarf. I seriously recommend that you track down his collection 'The Gothic and the Eldritch' - his work is some of the most graceful I have ever seen and truly does the Eldar justice.
Again, works in progress - and that damned flash!
While I'm at it, here's the Exarch (or group leader) that goes with this lot:
Again, works in progress - and that damned flash!
While I'm at it, here's the Exarch (or group leader) that goes with this lot:
9.04.2007
Druchii - Part 1
Here's some pictures of my WHFB Dark Elf army. These models are still works in progress (as are pretty much all my models *sigh*). I took these photos with my digital camera just using white paper as a background. Damn the flash is a harsh mistress, yet without it not much can be seen. It took me a long time to find a colour scheme that I was happy with for these guys - I didn't want to use the standard purple colouring that you often see, nor did I want it to look too cartoon like - I think I've found a happy medium here.
Some Druchii warriors:
Crew members for my bolt thrower:
Note to self: must get better light when I try this again.
Some Druchii warriors:
Crew members for my bolt thrower:
Note to self: must get better light when I try this again.
9.02.2007
Welcome to Sigil - Part 1
And here we are...
So why 'Sigil'..? It's a name that I have often used when spinning through these realms. An enigmatic word - and don't we users of the internet always reach for such mysterious labels when travelling these worlds? It is as if we feel the need to wrap a layered barrier of fantasy around us as we step into the unknown.
Another association springs to mind - the fantastic city of the same name. Sigil: The City of Doors, where one can go anywhere...
So which door will I take?
So why 'Sigil'..? It's a name that I have often used when spinning through these realms. An enigmatic word - and don't we users of the internet always reach for such mysterious labels when travelling these worlds? It is as if we feel the need to wrap a layered barrier of fantasy around us as we step into the unknown.
Another association springs to mind - the fantastic city of the same name. Sigil: The City of Doors, where one can go anywhere...
So which door will I take?
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