As far as things that I can’t seem to shake off are concerned, it’s this fact that a place like Edinburgh where I live is akin to a village where everyone (artist folk in particular) seems to know everyone, and the patterns or quirks that emerge from this said thought process. In most collectives I’m a part of and/or are associated with, there’s what seems like an endless sense of crossover and overlap with fellow artists etc for lack of better words, which is lovely as it is insane... you know? All in all though, even if it drives me mad it does so in a strangely positive way and I’ve learned to live with that. So yeah, make of that what you will. :-)
My favorite way to eliminate the often paralyzing fear of "ruining" "good" paper is to just paint on any and all junk mail that comes into my house. Higher end catalogs are great for this, they don't use slick, thin paper (and even that gets used in collage or as a desk cover for other projects) and they're already bound for you. Just add marks! Carry it with you. Scan the pages you like. Cut it up later for making other art. It's "just" junk mail, so there is literally no pressure. I have HUNDREDS of these type of things and I run across them all the time, forgotten, in some old backpack or purse or drawer and it's a treasure to look through them again, and add new marks, paints and words.
Kicking things off with the new sketchbook! And what a time to do so...
Coronavirus is rampant everywhere it seems, however big or small. If self-isolation (even for just a bit, wherever you are) is the way to combat this then I suggest making the most of this time.
*Captain Obvious groove*
Even if it is (in my case at the least) just doodling away to the point of allsorts in the hopes it’ll make at least one person a) happy b) perked or c) amused, do good and be good in wake of the current shitstorms in the making.
More for another day...
"You think your car's cool? Well mine is better than yours.
My car is so fly it doesn't even have doors.
You can't show ME up - the girlies know what's up,
When they see me roll up in my Speedy Teacup."
The new Hasselblads are so dang out of my range! I can't even swing a used one. This is the first time using the oil brush in @procreate on a final illustration. I have to admit i didn’t want it to end.
I had a rock tumbler as a child and really enjoyed it. When my youngest was a child we bought her one. She was eager to enjoy it too, but somewhere after starting on that path, we lost track and it everything inside turned into a solid mass. We tossed it and forgot about it. On a recent beach trip, I collected handfuls of rocks, as I am always likely to do, and, upon return, remembered how I loved my childhood rock tumbler. I immediately researched, ordered and eagerly anticipated its delivery. Of course, with Amazon Prime, that was only a couple day’s wait. As soon as I unboxed it I thought “what am I doing?” I have neither time, nor space for yet another hobby. I thought “what will I DO with a pile of polished, pretty rocks?” I would gather them in my hands and feel their silky smoothness. I would likely gather them in some beautiful glass bowl and…then what? I have toddler grand kids frequently at my home. They put small colorful things in their mouths and up their noses and feed them to the dogs regularly. And I don’t even have a single space to display a bog bowl of pretty rocks. So I quickly decided “I’m Returning the Rock Tumbler” and will, for NOW, stick to painting them when the mood strikes.
It was just a dream. When I woke up and realized my subconscious was telling me something before I even knew. He never let go...I did. Dreams have a way of inspiring me.
