Went to see Billy Strings Band live in Philly. Music inspires me so much. Although you might not like bluegrass, it's worth checking these guys out. Great jamming, musicians and show. Anyway even if you hate bluegrass, I hope you like the art that came out of it. I also included the original sketch/doodle. Enjoy. BTW: the song is "While I'm Waiting Here".
So I've really been trying to raise my digital art game because I've been a traditional artist most of my life. I'm trying to reach Loish level with color at least. Also, I love the fall season and the chill in the air it brings
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?
BEING GREEDY CHOKES ANANSI From Favorite Folktales around the world by Jane Yolen. One time, Anansi lived in a country that had a queen who was also a witch. And she decreed that whoever used the word five would fall down dead, because that was her secret name, and she didn’t want anyone using it. Now, Buh Anansi was a clever fellow, and a hungry one too. Things were especially bad because there was a famine, so Anansi made a little house for himself by the side of the river near where everyone came to get water. And when anybody came to get water, he would call out to them, “I beg you to tell me how many yam hills I have here. I can’t count very well.” So, one by one he thought they would come up and say, “One, two, three, four, five,” and they would fall down dead. Then Anansi would take them and corn them in his barrel and eat them, and that way he would have lots of food in hungry times and in times of plenty.
Beginning
A new kid showed up to play today. They strolled up the hill and around the tree and then they were right there.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CPnwYxQhHQ0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
This feels like it could be a fun kids activity page. When I started this doodle it was just the hill with the tunnel maze and a few things added in the maze area. It didn’t feel like it was going anywhere, but as I kept adding things I started to get into it and now I’m happy that I didn’t ditch it. It’s always fun when a piece surprises me. It never gets old.
Let Us Consider from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson
Let us consider the man who fried roses for his dinner, whose kitchen smelled like a burning rose garden; or the man who disguised himself as a moth and ate his overcoat, and for dessert served himself a chilled fedora...
#dailydrawing #watercolor #ink #illustration #poetry #russellEdson #dinners #moth #heartWantsWhatItWants
