Hormone Rush, digital painting by iServalan using Procreate and iPad pen.
In the midnight pulse of shadows, where flesh meets ink, you sit— a tangle of sinew and thought, of longing and fight, caught in the throes of what it means to become. Your back arches against the weight of unseen tides, muscles taut as strings plucked by hands made of flame. This is no still life; this is the storm, the crack and hiss of lightning in the marrow of your bones. Blood rushes like rivers unbound, hormones crashing against the walls of your skin, each surge a note in a symphony of change. You are the music, the crescendo and the scream, rising, falling, in the rhythm of creation. Ink drips down like sweat, like tears, like the remnants of who you were, splattering the void, marking your place in the chaos. But it’s not the darkness you fear— it’s the light, that blinding flash of becoming something more than just a shadow. You are the alchemy of pain and pleasure, the raw, untamed force of nature’s will. In this moment, you are everything and nothing, dissolving, reforming...
