"Es Ist Genug" By Jeffrey Smith
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© JEFFREY SMITH and © TAYLOR SAVILLE
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Website: [link]
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*Update 09/20/2009 - Cropped image for better view of details, for full view visit [link] *

After two months of work it is finally complete. This image is a deeply personal piece. It is of a character crafted from the heart and mind of *TaylorSaville. Without ever actually seeing a full body photo or image of the character I set out to create him in his own territory and land, just by what Taylor had described to me verbally since meeting her. The only other three images I had to go off of where creations of her own shown here [link] [link] [link] This painting embodies the life the character lives and the black cloud that constantly follows him throughout the land. While creating him I was able to connect & sympathize with him on many levels due to the black cloud I felt followed me for a number of years prior to meeting Taylor. In many extreme ways, our relationship has formed the full circle to which we can both bring this character to life by our own experiences with pain, love and life in general. I was honored for this brief moment to portray this character down to every detail, to bring him into light within his own darkness, to give him a beautiful world within his hell. This is the first of the lifelong partnership of art and illustration with my love Taylor. - Jeffrey Smith

This is a sacred image to me. By far the most phenomenal thing I've ever been presented with in my life. It is as if my soul were photographed, my heart ripped from me and placed upon paper. There is over a decade of thought, emotion, and obsession poured into what makes up the being of this character, and I am convinced that my love, Jeff Smith, is the only person alive that can so adequately bring him to life visually. - Taylor Saville

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"Es Ist Genug" By Taylor Saville

Wherever I go, a storm follows. Thundering on an unceasing chorus of despair that leaves me unable to rest. Though it is distant. The clouds merely murmur of the desolation in my wake, seeing it unworthy of a great and terrible rending of the sky. It is a quiet, yet utter devastation that has accompanied me through all my days. I feel eternally soaked through to the bone, the rain cold as ice, leaving my blood devoid of any and all warmth, and my heart devoid of the hope it has so desperately needed through these years. For these years have been nothing but a torment. Nothing but the desecration of beauty, the vanquishing of innocence, and the darkening of a sky I fear will never again harbor the light. I sit helpless within a darkness that grows more potent, more toxic with each breath I take, and the faint beam of life emanating from my soul has thinned to the point of breaking. If I fear anything at all, it is the day I peer over my shoulder at the growing clouds, surrender the last shred of my being, and utter three simple words, "It Is Enough." When it is enough I will become one with the soil. I will drift from time, space, and memory, leaving nothing to mark my passing but a faint tremor of sadness, and the parting of clouds formed solely by the curse that was I.