An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
I don't know why I love drawing birds so much, I just do, and it's always small ones like Finches and Canary's...here I added some froggies coz they're fun to paint too...
My tribute to my good friend who died earlier this year. Another white pastel on black paper. Not my favourite media but I love the effect of it. I need to practice more as I can't get my head around working on negative lol, erasing to get shadows and filling in to get highlights etc. I used a chunky white stick and a white pastel pencil but detail still eludes me lol. It's a technique I need to refine. It's the second picture of a dead person I've put on, apart from humph, so I'm a cheery little soul aren't I lol? Thanks for looking
The Golden Hate on a Materic Wall, acrylic on canvas (80x100 cm), drawing on paper with frame and glass (35x50 cm), materic painting with carbonate calcium , gesso and wax
The Super Bloom is still going in SoCal! On the trail are poppies, daisies, alyssum, pansies and now the mustard grass is in bloom. My process was an iPhone photo, then a drawing with color and then collage in Photoshop.
The Super Bloom is still going in SoCal! On the trail are poppies, daisies, alyssum and now the mustard grass is in bloom. My process was an iPhone photo, then a drawing with color and then collage in Photoshop.
The Super Bloom is still going in SoCal! On the trail are poppies, daisies, alyssum and now the mustard grass is in bloom. My process was an iPhone photo, then a drawing with color and then collage in Photoshop.
The Super Bloom is still going in SoCal! On the trail are poppies, daisies, alyssum and now the mustard grass is in bloom. My process was an iPhone photo, then a drawing with color and then collage in Photoshop.
The Super Bloom is still going in SoCal! On the trail are poppies, daisies, alyssum and now the mustard grass is in bloom. My process was an iPhone photo, then a drawing with color and then collage in Photoshop.
hahaaaa... sad times... I had a friend who had recently shot himself, and while everyone else with this prompt drew birthday parties and other kinds of happy surprises, I drew this, you can only imagine how concerned my art teacher was. Also, the lack of sleep I had was wearing on me, I spelled surprise wrong so I had to go on paint and correct it. It was the beginning of the school year and my friend had killed himself just at the end of summer break, when I was so busy having fun in the sun, it was the most surprising event I have experienced. So I tried to paint a beautiful scene with bright colors with a depressing scenario so that it wouldn't really match up... aka surprise.
