"The Tree People" finished line work. Pen = Sailor Pro Gear, EF nib. Pilot Black ink. I love this ink... if only it was waterproof. Works well with markers though.
My Illustrated Alphabet letters were born out of a project in 2016. Each was drawn with pen & ink and each letter is illustrated with either an object, flora, fauna or wildlife that begins with that letter.
I've been seeing lots of new bird species around my neighbourhood, like robins and magpies!
I like to think this bird is watching me from the sea of uncertainty, and looking at all the things I will create in the future and secretly telling me to go on, without me knowing how they will turn out. And strangely, that is some kind of motivation for me. : .
BIC ballpoint stick pen drawing on Richeson bulk drawing paper. This started as a contour drawing and just got squiggly (not the original intent). This was clipped to my board for weeks and I would add a few squiggles from time to time when I wanted to make marks, but didn't have inspiration. It's just a bit under 15 inches (12x18 inch paper) and is probably about 25 hours of making little lines and squiggles. The reference was a Dreamstime royalty-free photo.
It's definitely been a bit since I've posted, sorry about that, things have gotten very chaotic very quickly. I'm officially less than a month out from graduation (the finish line is almost here!), which also means it's time for my teachers to cram in projects. Other than that, I'm happy to say I received two official art commissions! I'm hoping to get something set up to hopefully begin selling some pieces, but, for now, I'll have some pieces in a gallery soon. Things, things, things, and Tony's face. Part of a larger project, hopefully to be completed soon.
Inktober 2020, day 11: "Disgusting". A license not to do the dishes thanks to art! :D
Although I got too carried away trying to capture the reflections to really capture the effect I was after. Also, even though I try to do a line drawing and ink it, my painterly sensibilities keep coming through. When I get a brush pen, I use it like a brush...
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.
One of my favorite things about being a parent is listening to the stories my daughter makes up and really trying to encourage her imagination. She has named a bunch of the cacti which line our windowsills, while our cacti are very accustomed to their suburban lives they also like a bit of adventure, this is a group of them taking a family vacation to the desert.
My favourite commission so far! Took me a while this one but so pleased with the finished piece. Didn't want to let her go! Drawn in black and white line using fine liners.
This started as a line drawing based on a photo of peonies in the garden. It’s drawn with three different pens: Micron 005, Micron 03 and Faber Castell Pitt superfine (0.3) on 11x14 Strathmore Bristol Vellum. The paper isn’t terribly tolerant of wet media, so I played around with tinting it in Photoshop because I wasn't sure how it would go. But I liked it in color enough to chance painting the drawing with the nice and bright Dr Ph Martin Hydrus watercolors. It's photographed it on my drafting table with my glasses for scale. The lamp has a daylight bulb, so I think the color (at least where the light is more prominent) is fairly true.
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?
