August 11th, 2014. The day it all stopped, but the little spark of madness never actually disappeared. I find it funny how I'm fascinated with trying to look into other's minds when I can't even figure out my own.
"'Faith' is a fine invention for gentlemen who see. But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!"-Emily Dickinson. A doodle from English class during the 4th rainy and cold day this week; let's hope the weather isn't foreshadowing how the rest of the school year will go. In all honesty, the only way I got through this week was courtesy of gymnastics and my fantastic coaches (shout out to Tony and Andrea). I figured I'd snap a photo of this before I give it away...
When I am angry and frustrated with the world (politics, wild fires, injustice, etc.) I seem to be drawn to drawing raptors. The first one is today's sketch, the other two are from former days.
Blackwing pencil and woodless B4 pencil on Canson sketch paper.
Not nice. Not happy. An unhappy ending to an unhappy and struggling world. we tried . Now we have been given Illoniri, we start over, and this time the people are different, not just human, but elves and orcs, and people made of candy . Hope starts when we give up hopelessness and embrace new. Don't ask yourself which of these last people you may be . Just ask yourself if you want a better world than this. It really isn't about becoming someone, but finding out who you really are. Bloom .
With all the California Wildfires, I'm reminded of a Comic I drew back in 2007. I'm California born & raised, so wildfires aren't too much of a big deal, but this latest one is definitely a history maker.
Superstitions: Nipples
According to a strange middle-european superstition, it is possible to tell from a man's nipples whether or not he has fathered children. If they are pink in colour, then he has not - while if they are brown, then he has!
https://www.instagram.com/p/CE9eRXBBeRQ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Superstitions: Nightmare
The 'nightmare' was originally believed to be a huge spirit which settled on people while they slept and gave them a feeling of being stifled - and in Europe an old preventative for this was to place a knife or something similar at the end of the bed, as it was well known that the denizens of darkness feared iron and steel.
Glaucomys sabrinus, northern flying squirrel has belly fur that is gray at the base. Flying squirrels might more appropriately be called “gliding squirrels” because they aren’t capable of true powered flight that a pterosaur, a bird or a bat can do. Check more like this on: https://www.instagram.com/camilojulianc/
This is bear 148 - she lived in the bow valley and was relocated several times, but a hunter got the better of her (she still had her tracking collar on) - this is an homage to the animals that are lost to us.
So, I used to do this a lot when I was growing up, like I am sure most of you do. I also do it to get inspiration should I ever need to start work with no prompt or to get limbered up to draw. There are three family younglings that visited me a while ago and they all gave me a different scribble line to start with and then I would draw what I imagine.
I absolutely love this painting it’s very colorful and just so aesthetically pleasing to look at! If you are interested in this painting it is on my depop if you wanna buy it
This is our husky named Shasta and was drawn in Photo Shop using the brush tool. I find the more I create using my computer the more inspired I am to return to the project at a later date. If I would have drawn this on sketch paper it would be lost in my piles of sketches and might never even get shared with anyone.
I practiced the colors with these watercolor pencils. I realized I didn't have enough color. Size: A/4 , Tools: white gel pen, "Faber-Castell Colour GRIP" watercolor pencils, watercolor paper
Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.
Trying some pastels after the drawing prompt. I like them. They are portable and you can create some fun effects. Of course, everything still looks like a seascape to me.
