(2B pencil on 178mm x 114mm paper) An image of a line of shadowy figures, all chained together, going hopelessly and reluctantly in the same direction. Above them is a wisp of some scent or sound that was never meant for them.
So why didn't Empress Electric make it back from their first tour? The answer is simple. The daffodils. Without Gale to tend to them, to keep the Jagged at bay, it began to wake up. Few are aware that the Jagged is all that remains of Fate. Now he's waking up- and the whole realm will feel his betrayed wrath without the Sisters of Subconscious to protect them. Radiation is coming.
Narwhals it seems, and I’m sure I’ve said this before, are a perfect remedy for art blocks I'd say. Wasn’t going anywhere last night, that is until I gave things another go and this fellow here saved the day!
The first two doodles, the Huckleberry Hound and the social media dog are already on here. But I had more space on the paper, and decided to draw a bunch of dalmatian dogs after seeing "101 Dalmatian Street" on Disney XD, and my 1930's rubber hose dog Dipsy Diddle, whom I've done quite a bit of drawings of.
Whenever I think of tags and/or labels for people, be it things like ‘gammons’ or ‘snowflakes’ et al, narrowing it down to a single person who represents that group is always running a fool’s errand in my opinion.
This line from the Stephin Merritt episode of the 'She's A Talker' podcast (referring to Stephen Sondheim plot-lines) got my imagination ticking in overdrive
It's crazy to think that we've been in a pandemic for a year or to think we could ever get used to this new way of life. March 13th, 2020 was the day everything stopped for me: it was the last day I went to school and the last day I went to gymnastics for 5 months. The promise of two weeks' time, something I somewhat desperately held onto. Going into this, no one knew what to expect, it was the first time many of us saw life as we know it stop. Quarantine has definitely taught me a lot emotionally, mentally, and how to reach out and work through (and what bad panic attacks feel like :) ). I think it also goes without saying that I got through most of this because of the people around me, and I can't say enough how grateful I am to be surrounded by such amazing people. So, here I am. Life is still pretty rocky, but it's a process. Thank you to everyone who's been along for the ride so far ❤
I genuinely can't believe it's already March (I also can't believe it'll be a year since the pandemic really started). Yesterday also marked one year since I started journaling, which isn't an actual major thing, but still. How quickly time flies and how big of a difference a year can make. "And when it rains, the rain falls down Washing out the cattle town But she's quite safe up far away in her eiderdown And she dreams of crystal streams Of days gone by when we would lean Laughing, fit to burst, on each other."
Starring Lesley Gore: You don't own me (1963). Let me tell you a story about women struggling to build careers in "man areas" as if building a house of cards. About a 17-year old girl singing a feminist anthem written by men in the 60s music industry dominated by men. About a young female journalist called Gloria who was supposed to write in "Womens' pages" only. About the same woman shouting out to the pink hats in 2017 as she already did to women in the 70s. Tricolor linoprint using one lino plate. December, 2020.
On occasions one likes to walk down the road with a geetar on ones back and drum stix in ones hand!...and then draw pictures of the aformentioned sequence of events! wowza! some folk think I'm on a protest march!...musak'weirdo'isms
I know this is simpler and a quicker piece, but this is the drawing for my August journal. I started doing these back in March, with each month's drawing being based off a song. This month is "Golden Slumbers" by the Beatles, July was "Tower of Babel" by Elton John. (The pencil sketch eye I previously posted is indeed now in my journal.)
This turned out to be a finished painting. It started with a full canvas of doodle lines (check my patreon log if you are interested in the raw file) This was executed just this March. Still, no lines were altered except the face area. Impossible you say?
Acrylic on Canvas, March 2020. This painting is of a photo that I took on a camping road trip around Iceland in May 2016 with two of my oldest and best friends -- one of my greatest memories.
A steam titan from the elder age, long forgotten. But this mammoth of gears and levers has not fogotten it's purpose. It delves through stone, and rock and mineral and earth. It hasn't stopped since the master's last order. The very nature of this machine is loyalty itself. Sometimes the scavengers follow it, picking up the remains it leaves behind in its search. What is it searching for? The center of the Earth? Nirvana? Hell for us ?
Many a strange thing lay in the world of Nornwan. Was it always so? Mayhaps...
But to find the answers to these questions, we must do as this steam engine, we forge onward. March on, Untitled Heroes. We are untitled. No one can stop us. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKXBKF6a2BWVDy_SgMvk8GQ?view_as=subscriber
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