I've been seeing lots of new bird species around my neighbourhood, like robins and magpies!
I like to think this bird is watching me from the sea of uncertainty, and looking at all the things I will create in the future and secretly telling me to go on, without me knowing how they will turn out. And strangely, that is some kind of motivation for me. : .
It's definitely been a bit since I've posted, sorry about that, things have gotten very chaotic very quickly. I'm officially less than a month out from graduation (the finish line is almost here!), which also means it's time for my teachers to cram in projects. Other than that, I'm happy to say I received two official art commissions! I'm hoping to get something set up to hopefully begin selling some pieces, but, for now, I'll have some pieces in a gallery soon. Things, things, things, and Tony's face. Part of a larger project, hopefully to be completed soon.
Ball point pen over wash. Being a mild-mannered Aries (married to a mild-mannered Aries), I didn't want the usual warlike ram, rather a friendly guy with nice "shofar" horns!
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.
It's an odd feeling to reexperience the old anger and frustration I thought I had overcome, but, in all reality, I've been letting it creep back in for a while now. There was a moment of fear, it's still in the back of my mind, I'm afraid to slip back into the mental place I was a couple of years back. I'd like to say I've finally realized that it's ok to be afraid, and even a bit frustrated, but it's a matter of how I handle those emotions and my own reactions that make the difference.
One of my favorite things about being a parent is listening to the stories my daughter makes up and really trying to encourage her imagination. She has named a bunch of the cacti which line our windowsills, while our cacti are very accustomed to their suburban lives they also like a bit of adventure, this is a group of them taking a family vacation to the desert.
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
Overview:
The title of this piece is directly inspired by the lyrics of the song "Rabbit In Your Headlights" by UNKLE. I liked the fact that I shook the static sensation of this shot using some vibrant colours and decoration. The subjects seems to be frozen in time, waiting for someone that will save them.
This started as a line drawing based on a photo of peonies in the garden. It’s drawn with three different pens: Micron 005, Micron 03 and Faber Castell Pitt superfine (0.3) on 11x14 Strathmore Bristol Vellum. The paper isn’t terribly tolerant of wet media, so I played around with tinting it in Photoshop because I wasn't sure how it would go. But I liked it in color enough to chance painting the drawing with the nice and bright Dr Ph Martin Hydrus watercolors. It's photographed it on my drafting table with my glasses for scale. The lamp has a daylight bulb, so I think the color (at least where the light is more prominent) is fairly true.
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?
