Honestly, I don't even know what the prompt is for today's #Inktober. I just drew whatever I wanted to. Today happened to be a version of self. Afro included. Is anyone as excited as me for Black Panther to arrive on the big screen? omgggg Well, I know I am. And it's gonna be lit.  -brr

Day 15: #Inktober So...I love Rick and Morty. This show is hella deep to be a cartoon. Rick has some issues, and Morty needs therapy after all these adventures-but I digress. There's this episode of where a Freddy Kreuger look alike blasts his way through inception like dreams and in the end, saves the day. His name: Scary Terry. Bitch. Well...he calls everything a bitch. He has a problem with cussing. Fave episode ever. Used roller ink, Japanese brush, gel pens, colored pencils for this one. Damn this is a dark picture. Perhaps I will upload a brighter one. Anyway, enjoy. -brr Thanks for the love. Want to support my Art ? Click here . All donations go towards supplies so I can continue my art! Thank you so much.

Week one of Inktober and lemme just say...it's been a hell of while since I posted on my blog. Whoa. Just whoa. Anyways...pardon the dust. The cobwebs. The...yeah. I've tried to stay continuous with posting on blogger and it was just beyond difficult with my physical conditions. I will try to make myself more available.  So what is Inktober? It's a drawing initiative with a set of prompts originally started by illustrator Jake Parker. World wide, people use the #inktober hashtag along with #inktober2017 on various social platforms to point and click their way through, connecting with other artists and viewing their work. It's super cool. I didn't have much in the way of colored inks or pens, but did have traditional Japanese brush inks, ballpoints, rollerballs, office pens, gel pens, markers, highlighters, and a few oil based markers. Whatever I had at my arms reach, I just decided to get to work and just proceed to draw.  I watched a...

i have cried in the veil of darkness. no one hears me here. i am sure to be quiet. crumpled tissues hushed in fuzzy sweaters, comfort envy only known to skin. closed doors are quiet locks. click. turn. remain steadfast in will. you are almost there. I've known smiles once upon a time in dusty books laid upon scripted journals in fancy ink when vitality was more desired than finality. so i sit. and they roll down my face, beckoning to be wiped. i am defiant in the cause. my hand refuses to leave my side.  drip drop and I hear small feet buzzing around on warm carpet, voice booming he is a superhero. behind closed doors, I feel a rush of a cape donned from a blanket around shoulders more bigger than mine. so i wipe my face. sip water. say a little prayer. rise. -b.r.rivera Dedicated to all those living in chronic pain. Now As a U.S. Pain Foundation Ambassador, I am advocating and bringing awareness. I share my story. Please follow along with me o...

This one particular man stands as prolific in my mind. Something about how the wild bird doesn't feel sorry for itself even in its frozen state. How secretly a broken wing challenges the raw Rocky-esque like stature the creature has. Screaming Adriiaaannnn!!!! with blackened eyes and sweat glistening from silken feathers. I don't know if I believe in such things. Here. Now. Sitting in chronic pain, barely able to move injured disks that stab burn stink in prolific meanderings. I mean, who can call their self an orange fiery flamed bird, beaten down by life and spit out in graves, turned to ash only to rise again? I am not that bird. That quiet, beaked, songstress. Attempting to flutter bloodied bashing's against a steel cage, minuscule perforations of seed scattered unto the recreated soil that can't fool earth. Self pity. Woe is me. The woe is me mentality framed in photographs where flight leaves the orbs of my eyes and ...

they miss the spirituality of the trees. the faint whisper of breath in oxygenated richness, the firm application of smoothness eloquently divine on the skin's surface. they miss the impartial breeze hitting blades of chloro-filled to the brim excitement of buds and the promise of another day. there's a reminder. a dancing metamorphosis barely young enough to hold unto the quaint swivel of the bark inching towards its cocoon, fluttering on the thin line of greatness. in the blink of an eye dismissed by smog ridden darkness electric buzz of cars and the flight of Starbucks cups filled to the brim of nothing, caffeinated the rush go go go, swiftly toes graze over grass enticingly as elusive engine drones to forget the brilliance of the sky. -b.r.rivera 12 if 30, April 2012 #30in30

i do not know where you begin or where i end we complete this circle with me under you and i ring so true of passion is what it needs to be ought to be should be and right now i cannot see where you begin and where i end. completion. i mean, you complete me wholely. satisfyingly. surprisingly i try to seek what is within flesh heating upon flesh melting caramel skin of me with the beautiful shade of black skin with you and i am so fighting this way that i feel about going on the suspended merry go round i feel fright within flight and seek to find balance as i teeter and totter off of what i find within you and i cannot see where you begin or the line of which i end because we are fused together again. and again. again, i keep on moving and struggling to breathe trying to find a respiration upon your inhalation as you are the lung to which i find air that i seethe out of my lips curled from my tongue rasping, holding on to the inner workings of you- i canno...

fingers bouncing on your scalp, smile satisfying lust upon the air bob and weave into the nape of your neck, going down to part your hair rough curls dancing in the shadows i feel so close within you sharing a moment in between my legs, greasing your scalp, in the mood. -b.r.rivera #30in30 http://beverlyrivera.blogspot.com http://writerswrite.ning.com

There has to be strength within my lungs A beat upon my chest And breath within my mouth Exhaling all negativity Ridding the mass un -harmonic deities that come from the sins which one battles within I fight a good fight Slowly I muster the strength. Gather the muscles to bend and arch in my arm Close within fists and move With the sway of Cassius Clay Jab. Move. Stick and Move swiftly. Swiftly I run And gather my strength Within bodily rhythms and balanced bones I glide upon asphalt and rocks two toned running miles upon wet sand tender muscles and nerves adapt to the freedom in strength which I react Moving closer to wisdom Insight and Positivity Away from the well trodden path Give me strength, Lord Have mercy On me. -b.r.rivera This is for Aunt Shirley & Will. Keep on Keeping on.

Excuse the language. Life's a bitch without health and/or dental insurance. Ok . Now that I got out my frustration, I can thank all of my blessings that I actually had to pay for a tooth extraction, oral surgery with sutures and nitrous oxide with Novocaine . I hate to say, I hate the dentist. Well...he was my lover today. Him and I were on the same page, laughing and dancing in a beautiful meadow full of wonder and possibilities. Today, the dentist was my best friend. My confidante. The love of my life. On other days, I would say that I hate the dentist. But today? The dentist took away all my pain. So let me scratch out and take that back-I don't hate the dentist. I just am strongly....anxious about seeing him. Armed with a Vistaril (that's a bitch be calm pill for those that don't know) and paying an extra $50 for nitrous oxide (that's laughing gas for those that don't know) I have to admit that my dentist experience was waayyyyy better than what I would h...

The only gift is a portion of thyself. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson To give. We all claim to do it, yet selfishly hold on to our last dollar at the bottom of our purse or wallet-hoping that it would grow. What is not being said with those actions is the faith required to understand that the karmic laws of pure humanness and the love of God himself will always allow us to recover. To not only live, but to thrive. Following this notion, I decided to give some of myself. The power starts with me, begins with me and does not have to end with me. I want to give. I want to give so purely and without thought, that giving will be a second thought, of human nature of my spirit. I never seen myself as a stingy person. Well...except with red velvet cake and a good fountain pen. Now those, I have to kinda get over. However, I found such a wonderful notion with giving. It can help myself, it can help others. With giving, I can share myself with others-hopefully offering inspiration, thought, physical ...

"Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you represents determinism; the way you play it is free will." - Jawaharal Nehru Sometimes, we get a shitty hand. I say this with mere bluntness, because it is the truth-and as they say, it will set you free. With this new-found freedom in the realization of this truth, I will not argue with it. As truth is set in stone, one comes to realize that nothing or no one can deviate the fact. Now, this shitty hand that we get may be an accumulation of so many things at one time-we get laid off, and we cannot find another job. The rent is due and damned if the cable is ready to get cut off. Can't afford a landline phone so we get minutes filled on a card to talk wirelessly . The baby is sick, your back hurts and you got to cook in a 1/2 an hour when your favorite television show is ready to come on. I know. I know. Cry. Or snap the hell out. To each their own. Regardless of the inevitable way which we conduct our self fr...