A great deal of upheaval in my personal life, including making steps to better my mental health as well as reflecting on changes in my work life (potentially) and also my living situation, have dominated my headspace as of late.
Long story short, Buddha reminding us all to still any madness in life got me to work here as did the obvious itch to get some drawing done!
"If Madonna's allowed to reinvent herself every 15 minutes, I figure I should be good for a change at least once every 20 years." - “Weird Al” Yankovic.
When we help someone there is always something that blooms and grows beyond us. It is an increasingly necessary action in a world that unfortunately is increasingly divided.
@givingtuesdaypt challenged me to illustrate its movement inspired by this year's motto "Together we change the world"!
This day is celebrated on the first tuesday after BlackFriday, calling on anyone to choose a cause that ressonates with them and give back to them however you can. Thus, a wave of massive generosity is created, which can (and should) extend beyond today! Are there any organizations you want to support?
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"Parts Unknown," Acrylic on Canvas, 18x24 Some actions we will never know the reason behind, and, quite honestly, we don't always need to know the answer. Anthony Bourdain committed suicide on June 8th, 2018, news that was shocking for most to hear. People continue to speculate what could have caused him to commit suicide, some feel he had more to do, to say before he died. Personally, I find there's some feeling of closure or completeness to his death. I don't know what the feeling is exactly, but it's there. It feels like he left on his own terms, decided it was time. I wouldn't consider his death as him waving a white flag to addiction and depression. He said his shows were intended to tell other's stories, tell them frankly and truthfully. It's interesting how blunt and honest he could seem to be about himself, though he kept so many layers held within. Although we'd love to have a clear cut answer, explanation, reason, what would knowing that information change?
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.
I actually finally got round to framing this piece I did and hanging it up on my wall the other day, which made me really happy :).
Tool used: acrylics, colouring pencils, posca markers on brown A4 card.
Zoomed in shot of "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead". Created in 2012. Size: 22” x 30” / Micron Pens on Archival Paper. This piece was all drawn freehand - no rulers or measuring tools were used to create this artwork. 2019 kinda looked like this. It had a lot going on. Lots of changes. A close friend of mine predicted 2019 would be "The year of change", and she was right… at least up in my neck of the woods. Anyway, it has been full of good, fun and challenging things – all worth while. Excited to dive into 2020.
This is my most recent work, just finished. I really had a lot of fun with this one. It didn’t turn out as colorful as I hoped but the contrast is spot on. If you’d like to give me a suggesting, i’m still trying to decide if i should fill the lower right chest area of the horse. It doesn’t make sense to leave it blank but i’m afraid changing it might ruin what I have. Any opinion is welcome! :)
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?
No, I can't get it out of my head, now my whole world is gone for dead. This song has been stuck in my head for a while now, kind of interesting. I apologize for the long ramble of reflection this will be, but here I go. It's been an interesting few weeks, ups and downs, odd mindsets, but here I am. I don't know, quarantine has shifted a lot of things for everyone, and I've noticed a lot of changes in myself. I jokingly say I'm becoming soft, but it's a bit true, in a good way. I'm thankful for so many people in my life, and I'm finally letting those people how much they mean to me. I know I've said this before, but gymnastics has really been getting me through, and I'm proud of all the progress I've been making recently. My coaches make my life better, they're just incredible people and I love them so much. Thank you to the person I had a whole long text conversation with tonight (you know who you are) and for always dealing with my chaotic self. And finally, I've started to accept who I am, and that's a nice feeling. There's still the dark parts, the static still consumes me from time to time, but tonight was a good night. Thank you for all the support from everyone (in and outside of this community!). I genuinely appreciate all of it
This is part of an ongoing series. This time we pass through The Great Exhibition and meet the different characters there to view art or just to socialise and hang out.
This started as a pencil drawing (see the 2nd image) that I scanned and put into Photoshop. I tried various filters including: Smudge, Ink Outline, some Splatter, changed the Exposure and added a Sepia Photo Filter. After a couple of hours of playing (I’m not very knowledgeable about digital possibilities and just use trial and error) I ended up with a dramatic image with which I am quite happy. The reference was a magazine advertisement.
This acrylic painting was developed from a spectacular photo that was gifted to me. As usually, I had to make some changes. The head was looking away. I created a model for what I needed and filled in details from research.
For me, it's the process of creating - not really the end result. Once something is done, it's done and you move on to the next process. Life is the ultimate process after all. We don't hang around and admire the dead body once it has finished what it needed to do...On the other hand, the end result of someone's process can be felt through what they have left behind. I hope this is what will eventually happen with the art I create.
"Man on the Train: Hey, are you a dreamer?
Wiley: Yeah.
Man on the Train: I haven’t seen too many around lately. Things have been tough lately for dreamers. They say dreaming is dead, no one does it anymore. It’s not dead it’s just that it’s been forgotten, removed from our language. Nobody teaches it so nobody knows it exists. The dreamer is banished to obscurity. Well, I’m trying to change all that, and I hope you are too. By dreaming, every day. Dreaming with our hands and dreaming with our minds. Our planet is facing the greatest problems it’s ever faced, ever. So whatever you do, don’t be bored, this is absolutely the most exciting time we could have possibly hoped to be alive. And things are just starting" - waking life (movie).
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So the other day I had a beautiful conversation about lucid dreaming with some friends. We shared amazing dream memories that we all had experienced and right the next day this sleeping beauty started showing up on a piece of paper.
What about you, are you a dreamer? :)
♠️
Joseph Cornell (1903–1972)
Cornell worked nights at the kitchen table, sorting and assembling materials for his boxes. It was not easy going. Some nights he felt too fatigued from his day job to concentrate on his art and would sit up reading instead, switching on the oven for warmth. In the mornings, his quarrelsome mother would scold him about the mess he’d left at the kitchen table; without a proper workroom, Cornell was forced to store his growing collection of magazine clippings and dime-store baubles out in the garage.
In 1940 Cornell finally mustered the courage to quit his job and pursue his art full-time—and even then his habits changed little. He still worked nights at the kitchen table, while his mother and brother slept upstairs. In the late morning he would head downtown for breakfast at his local Bickford’s restaurant, often satisfying his sweet tooth with a Danish or a slice of pie (and lovingly cataloging these indulgences in his diary).
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #JosephCornell @masoncurrey
