I was feeling listless about this inktober until I picked up Daily Rituals : How artists work by Mason Currey. I immediately knew that I want to do these portraits for the inktober.
FRANCIS BACON.
At the end of these long nights, Bacon frequently demanded that his reeling companions join him at home for one last drink - an effort, it seems, to postpone his nightly battles with insomnia. Bacon depended on polls to get to sleep, and he would read and reread classic cookbooks to relax himself before bed.
#inktober #portraits #francisBacon
(Gel fineliner on A5 paper) A weird piece of dark art for the second day of the Inktober challenge. I've not bothered with the prompt words, much preferring to go "vanilla" with it.
A stylish woman pedals her way through town on a vintage cargo bike, flaunting her sleek black beret and boots. Her loyal passengers, a fabulously fluffy poodle and a dapper little bulldog sporting a pink scarf.
The poodle, clearly the queen of the ride.
Pun play to encourage positive body image. Freckles, moles, skin tags. Love them or hate them, they are part of our body. As one who enjoys stargazing, I think that the dots on our body resembles stars in the night sky. Truly beautiful. Sometimes when I’m bored, I play connect the dots on my limbs, and they do resemble constellations.
(Gel Fineliner on A5 paper) One of the age-old responses from dog-owners: “He won't bite you” along with “He's good with children.”
He's a dog, and like all dogs, they're bred from wolves. Given half the chance they'd revert back to their natural pack instinct. The only reason they don't is that they see you as the pack leader who regularly feeds and pampers them.
“Oh, my little darling isn't like that!” I hear you say, as if you're talking about a child. “He gives me kisses by licking my face. It's his way of saying how much he loves me.”
He licks his balls and arsehole with that tongue, so what's he really saying there?
My new painting captures the chaotic yet heartwarming scene of a determined father I spotted cycling through the morning rush. He's juggling a lot—quite literally—with a baby strapped to his chest and a little girl perched in the bike's front basket.
Warm and cool winds mixing and blowing over sand ridges. A memory from living on the edge of a desert in Western Australia. Sometimes, walking the early morning the air is still cool in the shade of the trees, but the moment you step out into the sun, it is already hot.
