Another piece from my vernal pools/treescapes studies I have been working on in correlation to my interest in local creature found in our woodlands.
I adopted the use of a circle one night, wanting to frame out an idea/sketch and a wine glass happened to be close by. Since then I have used it often, loving the circle aspect.
I wax specific areas (paint with wax) and light from the back...in the end it will be in a glass frame to hang in a window....tben the waxed areas will glow!!!
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901)
Toulouse-Lautrec drank constantly and slept little. After a long night of drawing and binge-drinking, he would often wake early to print lithographs, then head to a café for lunch and several glasses of wine. Returning to his studio, he would take a nap to sleep off the wine, then paint until the late afternoon, when it was time for aperitifs.
(One of his inventions was the Maiden Blush, a combination of absinthe, mandarin, bitters, red wine, and champagne. He wanted the sensation, he said, of “a peacock’s tail in the mouth.”)
From Daily rituals by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #henriToulouseLautrec @masoncurrey
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Digital illustration of a retro drive-in theater, complete with 3D glasses. Image has been featured on consumer items at Boom Boom Prints & coming soon to Spoonflower. #DriveInMovieDay
A variety of colorful and delicious looking pastries and cakes are displayed under a glass dome, resting on a wooden base. The arrangement includes an assortment of treats, such as cupcakes and slices of cake.
A suit I designed for a fantasy SWAT (TSWATT, or the Taured Special Weapons And Tactics Team). They have wings which can fold into themselves, so far that they cannot be seen unless you look behind the back. They have special long fall boots (sort of like the ones from Portal) that allow them to fall from great heights. They have special glass goggles that act as sort of a VR set, in which they can see through smoke and walls if the area they are in is mapped out. The little orange thing on their chest records everything they witness. Drawn with FireAlpaca.
One of my girls with lots of patterns. The girl keeps in blue and purple and the background and sunglasses is kept in green, orange end yellow tones. I have always had a hard time using less color and this is my practice in keeping a more stringent color theme.
Richard Dixon. Richard and his brother Asher (and Mitchel, if you count his little brother) live with their two very well-off parents. While his mother works as a surgeon, his father works with animatronics. While Richard looks up to his dad, and loves to work on his own machines, Asher looks up to his mother, and is hoping to one day work in the medical field. While Richard and Asher are around the same age (15), Mitchel is eleven. He wears really big glasses because of his vision, which amplifies his adorability. Will post more of these guys in the future.
Of all the things to jumpstart my inspiration for this, I never had an eye-test and a fresh set of glasses the day after the Samhuinn Fire Festival took place… but alas, here we are!
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?
