Seth Corry

The Gallery

I almost got my degree in studio art (fun fact) but then figured writing was far more lucrative… Anyway, I like drawing weird things just as much as I like writing them. Recently, I’ve also become obsessed with macro photography (though, I don’t have any of the correct equipment yet. Look around, let your eyes linger, and see if you can get a feel for my signature touch!

These are pencil and charcoal drawings.

A Man in the Dark Fumbling fingers. The match scratches against the rough walls twice until finally, the little virgin light flickers from his numb fingers.
A Man in the Dark
Fumbling fingers. The match scratches against the rough walls twice until finally, the little virgin light flickers from his numb fingers.
A Sister's Saint An elegant neck, a pragmatic beard. The Saints of the Sisters Sanctum were beautiful in their wisdom, and terrible in their judgment.
A Sister’s Saint
An elegant neck, a pragmatic beard. The Saints of the Sisters Sanctum were beautiful in their wisdom, and terrible in their judgment.
Through the Eye of the Needle The camel refused to go on. They would have to continue on foot. As the passenger dismounted, a lone figure watched from across the chasm, was this his doing, or was he a pawn too?
Through the Eye of the Needle
The camel refused to go on. They would have to continue on foot. As the passenger dismounted, a lone figure watched from across the chasm. Was this his doing, or was he a pawn too?

Paintings & Color

These are both digital & real paintings, as well as some 3D art pieces.

Thunder In Purple The clouds piled in on themselves, pushing the rain out like a sponge. I've never seen rain so purple, nor clouds so pure.
Thunder In Purple
The clouds piled in on themselves, pushing the rain out like a sponge. I’ve never seen rain so purple, nor clouds so pure.
Glass Rods Somewhere I've never been here, but my uncle sent me a postcard once. I was only 7 then, and lost it when we moved for the third time. Never found it again, but sometimes I wish I remembered what he'd written on the back.
Glass Rods Somewhere
I’ve never been here, but my uncle sent me a postcard once. I was only 7 then, and lost it when we moved for the third time. Never found it again, but sometimes I wish I remembered what he’d written on the back.
The Blessed Mariner
Down and down, he sank all while the ocean held him in its warm, loving embrace. His face was calm, his eyes open. His mouth was in a simple, serene smile as his last thoughts slowly blurred and then vanished from his mind.
It Might Rain Tomorrow
At least that’s what the weatherman said.

The Goofy Extra Stuff

Lastly, these are some of my favorite pieces, the quirky doodles and silly scribbles, and all that. They capture a moment better than some of the “professional” pieces ever could.

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