It was suggested by a few folks that it would be good to do a semi-regular feature on some of the wonderful art that may not follow the norm of what’s posted out there. For this post, we’ll be taking a look at Ookami Kemono and his storied images, both from the Dear L. series and other narrative pieces of art.
As a bit of a disclaimer, I’ve been following Ookami Kemono for a while, and have even had a commission of my own done by him. Even so, I think it’s very interesting to see someone come up with a touching and emotional story for many of the pieces of art they post, and he certainly does post rather often! In this instance, we’ll be posting each of the “stories” that comes along with the pieces themselves in order to help complete the image (thus making this one of the longest posts of ours – the words really do help complete the images, though); be sure to check out the full versions on FurAffinity.
My boyfriend is a big Dungeon and Dragons nerd as well as a WoW patron. In his D&D lifestyle, he loves creating worlds, making stories for them as well as characters and other concepts, and playing them out. In his WoW lifestyle, he loves raiding with people he knows or complete strangers for hours on end. It got to a point where you don’t even have to guess what room he would be in whenever he comes home from work or school. At first I didn’t really complain that much. Being his girlfriend, I tried my hand in his fantasy world and WoW campaigns. For a while, I played with him, learning the ropes and the books until I was no longer a “newb” to him. On special occasions, we even “larp”ed in the bed room, i.e roleplaying our sexual fantasies.
I was wrong when I thought his obsession for the fantasy world couldn’t get any worse. This new game came out last month for his console system and ever since, he was glued to the TV set. He hardly goes to work or school anymore as he juggles his D&D games, WoW raids and now this. It came to a point where I started to pick up extra shifts at my work just to make up for what he lost. I didn’t mind it as much until I, his girlfriend, started to fade from his attention. He hardly notices me anymore, even when I want to make love to him. He would brush me off, saying that he was too busy or too hooked into the game he was playing. When I do managed to get his attention, our love making would be quick, emotional-less and rather dull. I find myself just sitting next to him on the couch, watching him play. This is the only time where I feel like we are spending “quality” time with each other.
Each of Ookami’s works comes with its own little story, often touching and always emotional.
” I remember that time very clearly. I sat quietly on the sofa – my fingers entwined together, my back straight and my and my breath calm. The only thing that was offset and erratic was my quick beating heart in my chest. I sat there, dressed in my lime green over shirt, my long sleeve purple silk shirt, my lucky red skirt and black stockings. My favorite Pride bracelet was resting on my wrist and my blue earring upon my right ear. I wore my favorite perfume for the special occasion: Vanilla Mist. Smelling it calms my nerves and makes me smile. Behind me was a wall filled with photographs from my past. My family loved to keep a photographic history of my past mounted on the living room wall. It ranged from when I was a pup, to my first day at school, to my participation at the marathon, my high school prom, to my graduation from college. Hopefully, my legacy wall will continue to have pictures of my continuing future. But that, I don’t know if that would happen.
Infront of me were my parents, both sitting in separate chairs, looking at my direction as their minds tried to process the information I just told them. Their faces, even their body language, were a mixture of puzzlement, confusion, anger and sadness. The images behind me were me when I was young and male. Now, I sit here before my parents, reveling my true self to them for the first time: I am a female inside a male’s body and I’m now coming out. My breasts and figure were thanks to my hormone medication. My antlers were still on my head, almost like a big lettered sign saying I’m a male, but I didn’t want to go far into surgery without telling my parents about myself and who I am.
One of the greatest things about this work is the intense effort put into shading via traditional techniques of cross-hatching and stippling. Even in his colored images, the effort put into this shading is evident.
“What she wanted, I knew she couldn’t have. Sonya, my lesbian girlfriend, is a very nurturing woman. She has this motherly nature to her that I rarely see in woman now a days. Whenever we pass by a child in the park or on the train, wherever we wondered, she would always take a moment to make the child smile with silly words or goofy faces. Her face would bright up like the sun whenever she smiled. After she talked about how cute the child was, she would sometimes feel down, wishing to have a child that she could take care of someday. She takes care of me like I’m her ‘child’, but she wanted something small she could teach and dress up. With our income, we wouldn’t be able to afford to take care of a child of our own. Having to pay for the sperm injection, the labor and everything after that, it was a dream that she wishes that would come true.
Christmas was approaching and she was hoping to get a big promotion at work. Sadly, she didn’t get it. She told me that if she did get promoted, she would be able to afford to have a child of her own. This event caused her to feel down and to sulk. Even though she smiled at me and said nothing was wrong, I knew that she was depressed on the inside. To have your dreams crushed and shattered like glass by just one negative word from your selfish boss’ mouth is terrible. It broke my heart to feel that, to see her try to hide her true feelings and to see her dream shatter so quickly. I was saving up to buy us two tickets to Europe, but I didn’t want her to feel down during our getaway. I rushed to a special store ( about 10 miles away ) that I hoped would have something to cheer her up. With the money I saved up, I used it all on something I knew she would love.
The emotions tied with these images have a lot to do with gender, sexuality, or body image.
“… It’s time to go to my parents house – my family who thinks they know all about me, their son. They don’t. I don’t tell them everything. I wish I could, but doing so would cause drama and so many issues that I can’t possibly handle in my life right now. They don’t know of my transformation: Male to Female transsexual. I have been taking pills for a long time and I now have grown well developed breasts. I can’t put bras on when I see them. They would notice the strap lines as well as the roundness of my chest. I would wear a thick sweater, but its no where near winter yet and they would still show. I don’t regret my new growth or the years I spent taking the pills to transform into what I want to be, so the only option I have is to bind my chest as tightly as I can with medical bandages, sometimes with a combination of duct tape I have to buy a bulk of rolls because they are one use only. It’s like wearing a corset that makes your chest as flat as possible. On top of wearing this stupid bandage, I have to wear boy clothes, down to the underwear. This makes me even more uncomfortable.
Its hard to breathe with this bandage on and I can’t flex my torso as much as I want to. In the end, I get burns and bruises from the tightness of the bandage. Sometimes my damage my ribs. I sometimes lock myself in the bathroom when seeing my parents and remove the construction from my chest. I only manage to get a good few breathes of air before I have to put it on again and walk out – continuing to act like a male instead of the female I want to be.
That someone can come up with a story behind each image and present it almost in a slice of life journal entry or letter is, in my mind, quite impressive, and worthy of the attention.
” Dear L,
I hope you don’t mind if I write this under Anonymous, because what I have to say sounds pretty weird and I don’t want to be the center of attention for hate mail and bullies. I have read the letters you have published from other people and I gained enough courage to finally write down what I have on my mind. I don’t know if its sick or not, but I’m hoping that you would give me some good feedback. I’ll just start out by saying that I have a huge crush on a girl. Her name is Ling-Doe. The thing is, this girl was drawn by an artist; a fictional character.
I’m single and lonely. Ill start off by saying that. I believe it’s normal for single people to fantasies about their dream mate. I first saw a Ling-Doe drawing created by an artist on a popular furry website. This artist,draws very beautiful woman. The detail to their bodies is amazing: the line work, the shading, the colors, everything. It almost pops out to life whenever you look at his creations. Ling-Loe has been drawn by other artists in various styles, but his style is what really brought me to my knees for her. It’s her eyes. There is so much life in her eyes. When I look into her eyes, those computer painted neon glowing eyes, I lose myself in a world of fantasy where here and I are talking, walking together, cuddling, and even making love. Everything like that. She talks to me in my dreams. Her voice so soft like a spring breeze, her eyes give off the warmth of a sun in a clear blue sky. Her body is molded like a Goddess among Goddesses. Her smile melts my heart and makes me want to pluck the moon for her. She is so unique. I’ve never seen any woman like her drawn as beautiful as her by anyone except for that artist who created her. Yes…I know… Its a bit overboard for an imaginary character drawn by an artist I have no idea what is is like or even his real name. All I know is that he draws her in a way that she becomes flawless, realistic, and unique in every way. I “worship” the artist because he is the one who created her – beautiful Ling-Doe.