This piece was done with watercolour crayons, crayons, fineliner, acrylic paint and a touch of posca. I was showing that love can be blind and sometimes almost arrogant and selfish, the arrow has hit the spot on the second attempt but the scars are still to be seen. Although the person playing cupid aint always an outside force. I enjoy playing with the titles and am constantly changing and thinking of what it will be called when doing the piece, but i do like my wordplay. this one was a play on horticulture and felt it all tied in to the final design :))
This is available as an a3 sized print.
Some months ago, I uploaded a drawing of the front of our house. This time, I drew the back of the house---in the same style. Last time, I used a Pigma Micron 005 pen, this time, I used a Uniball Signo Gel pen---which made the drawing a bit looser. This is a large house in the Pacific NW Modern style (a late 70's incarnation) with characteristic big windows, skylights, and jutting angles.
Day 2: Puppy, for the DoodleWash Art challenge. A subject I always enjoy drawing. I was in the mood for a floofy boi and corgi pups are full of floof. #doodlewashnovember2019
Not a ‘robot’ per se, but an android/replicant. From the classic movie Blade Runner about an alternative future 2019-2049 and beyond. Replicants were used as slaves for humans. Red Bic4 Ballpoint Pen on Archival 9” x 12” paper.
Hand and drapery sketchbook drawing. This combo never gets old for me. Faber-Castell PITT pastel pencils, charcoal pencils on 9” x 12” Strathmore Toned Grey sketchbook paper.
Old drawing that I had contributed to a charity art book for Japanese tsunami relief efforts. Feel free to follow my facebook for additional updates! http://www.facebook.com/sonialaiart
Whew! Baby yoda was fun to draw and gave me an excuse to get familiar with some of these brushes. The original sketch had a special guest, so you might see this one pop up again in the future. Hope you like him! .
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?
