Many beginnings.
Beginning 1.
Kitten was very very lazy. She used to hunt slugs but now she only hunted carrots. She was such a good carrot hunter!
* Starting is easy, it's the middle that is often a muddle. And I won't even mention the endings. Here are some beginnings for children stories that flitter through my head.
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.
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...
A print of one of my pen and ink drawings…
Comes as a high quality print on 12 mil . paper.
Signed and packaged in an acid free sealed sleeve.
approx. size:
8″x10″
Packaged with care and mystery extras…..
It's an odd feeling to reexperience the old anger and frustration I thought I had overcome, but, in all reality, I've been letting it creep back in for a while now. There was a moment of fear, it's still in the back of my mind, I'm afraid to slip back into the mental place I was a couple of years back. I'd like to say I've finally realized that it's ok to be afraid, and even a bit frustrated, but it's a matter of how I handle those emotions and my own reactions that make the difference.
Mixed media. Acrylic, pencil, digital. This is a piece from the book “Mail Me Art - Medium Without A Message” by @littlechimpsociety. I think it was the second call for entries/book.There are now 4 books filled with awesome art drawn and painted on outsides of envelopes and packages by artists all over the world who then mailed them to the UK totally exposed to the postal service. The original was all analog. I brought this into Procreate and reworked it. I may do more when I get a chance but I’m pretty satisfied with it now.
Overwhelmed...started as a little tiny sketchbook sketch and turned into my statement about recent events. It complements my previous post "Fevered Dreams." Bic ballpoint pen on archival 9” x 12” paper, scanned into Photoshop where the text overlay was added. Model: Jose
Maia, one of two current German Shepherds was born here at our house ten years ago. She is a grand old lady with a big ears, a big ruff and a sweet personality. This drawing was done from a photo reference AND her sleeping at my feet. I used Pigma Micron Pens in black and brown with a little graphite smudging to add a bit of shadow.
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?
It's ok to not make sense. It's ok to not follow a pattern. It's ok to be the odd one out.
Life is too beautiful, too amazing, to eccentric, too weird to fit inside someone else's tiny little box of an opinion about you. Break free out of that and live your life on your terms.
