Weirdly enough, I never used to feel bothered by winter. A sign I’m “getting on a bit” as they say? I’m 32 come April, not 102 for feck’s sake! Whatever the case, roll on spring and general warmth, long overdue I have to say…
First time coloring with markers since I was a kid. Couldn't sleep last night so I started drawing this. No idea what it is. Just let the pen do the work haha organized my art supplies today and decided to finally try out my markers.
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with new art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. The color palette and symmetrical motifs in this one were inspired by the boats on Lake Xochimilco in Mexico, which is the last remaining place wild axolotls live.
I was working on nighttime or dark themes and trying to get more contrast than the last piece I made. I wanted to also work on atmospheric perspective and depth with the clouds. Overall, I am pretty happy with the outcome. This is from a reference picture my husband took from our backyard. Painted with Rebelle 6 Pro.
To many I know a hibiscus flower might represent endless tropical summers. Up north where I live, hibiscus is the often the last flower to bloom while fall is setting in. While vibrant, I wanted it to feel lonely as seasonal changes are very introspective times in my life.
It totally bypassed my mind that last night I would be off to see Gary Numan with my uncle. The perks of having both an over-active work life and a social one too...
I keep coming back to this Vice headline I saw and took a screenshot of this time last week, which inspired the title of this piece. Seems like a relevant metaphor to me (and others I know) for so many reasons right now! Thankfully nothing too traumatic in my case...
A wonderful reflective poem from Wendell Berry entitled "How to be a poet" is a fantastic foundation for an art curriculum. The last of three stanzas reads as follows:
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.
