night

Sketching the night away with my 03 Micron

You know those movies where they explore houses in the middle of the night with poor light and.... then this music starts to play?

Another piece from my vernal pools/treescapes studies I have been working on in correlation to my interest in local creature found in our woodlands. I adopted the use of a circle one night, wanting to frame out an idea/sketch and a wine glass happened to be close by. Since then I have used it often, loving the circle aspect.

Artists from the planet Earth believe that inspiration is an inner energy that gives them ideas, mental power which strengthens the will to create a new work. We Assheads from the World of Fantasy, we know that inspiration is a living being that manages the actions of artists, states them to actions that normal man would not do. We consider the coming of inspiration - to a reasonable extent - good for creativity, but if the inspiration gets us in a firm hug and does not give up, it can have a devastating impact on the individual. In such instances, inspiration shows their other, insidious nature, about which little is spoken. Inspiration will, for example, propel artist - as the devil sinning soul - to constantly create, to eat is not thought, to be many nights sleepless, his sexual life can suffer, etc. Striking inspiration, such as a comet in the head, can, in some cases, result in a straitjacket, even death. We Assheads know that it is not wise to give advice to the artist struck by inspiration, warn him that there are still other joy and values in life. His inspiration closed his ears, he works with him as with a toy, so the artist could retaliate with aggression, considering that his personal freedom was compromised. For these and other reasons, we Assheads, marginal artists from the World of Fantasy, do not give special importance to artistic inspiration. - It's important to paint something, dance some dance, make some melody - says asshead Caci - - no matter what you create, there will always be someone stupid enough to see art in it.

A piece from my vernal pools/treescapes studies I have been working on in correlation to my interest in local creature found in our woodlands. I adopted the use of a circle one night, wanting to frame out an idea/sketch and a wine glass happened to be close by. Since then I have used it often, loving the circle aspect.

KNIGHT

knight

Flying Through the Night.

7'x7' copper plate decorated by myself using acrylic paint and coated with paint protection gloss. Safe to use as an ashtray, rolling tray, or decorative plate. This is my take on the starry night painting. I bought the little tray and decides to recycle it. After painting and glossing I personally tested this product out to be sure of the the safety in the product. It can be cleaned with a damp cloth. This is not safe for putting food on, but it's great for kitchen decoration. For custom products message me or contact me on instagram @quin.de.artist for sale @ https://www.etsy.com/shop/QuinsHarlemDesigns

Mermay Day 8: Game Night - watercolor and pen

Watercolor

The freshness of morning withdrew in front of the warm rays of the sun. The Wizard of Cirilo Bum and I came to the High Meadow, one beautiful gazebo, where we planned to spend a day off. - Only those who work hard and get their work done, fully enjoy all the pleasure of a vacation - said the wizard Čirilo Bum. I did not answer him, my life plan was to work as little in life, for that reason, I have taught for the wizard at him. By the time we took the time to see the water that emerged from the earth, in the air she created a form of grapes and spirals of various colors that had disappeared in the unknown. The Ghosts of water had fun, trying to show each other their skills. We chose a place on the edge of the High Meadow for our accommodation, where we could watch the landscape: meadows and forests scattered to distant mountains of dark blue. Above us were an old, large yew tree as created to keep us from the strong sun and the negative energy. Below the meadow was stretched by which a dozen young dragons rode along and across, skillfully changed the direction of movement and twisted with their long bodies, they played hunting. Hidden in the crown of a large oak tree near us, pointed snake watched their game with their big green eyes, but I noticed that she quickly dropped into sleep. Then I remember that I did not do some important jobs yesterday, Čirilo Bum will definitely see it when we get home. It spoils my mood a bit, and I pulled out of the baskets a few of the dried sausages that the old wizard worked so well. Full stomach I always better mood. - There are rare opportunities to see the Big Redbeak - suddenly spoke Cirilo Bum - bird right now wants to snatch egg. I stared for a while around so Čirilo Bum says: I said Big. And indeed, I find him so big that several other creatures sought accommodation in his body. Cirilo Bum spent almost all day hovering in the crown of the old yew, napping with a satisfied look on his face. Every time I was constantly tortured by the fact that I would have to listen, a critic of the old wizard, when we come home because of my unsolved tasks. My nervousness I softened so that I ate all the food from the basket. Late in the afternoon, we went home, from the trees they began to descend some new, hitherto unseen beings in search for food or night hideout. Spirit of water was gone, but a good part of the way, perhaps from curiosity, we were followed by other inhabitants of the World of Fantasy, were to me welcome companions, I took my thoughts with them, to the house. A 3 format

This is a much older concept that I never really finished. Took place long before my editing game was any good.

Just a late night sketch of my favorite flower

Some late night doodling with neon pens, pity the camera couldn't pick up the colours coz they are lookin' mighty.

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?

so I did this cause I wanted to see how my anatomy was being put to a test. It came out better than I had expected.

Sky-trundling in the dusky night through the dusty rain-bowed clouds.

Saga of bunny like creatures continues

Rad experience joining a local drawing group for the first time yesterday although I didn't realise how inconvenient my backpack was going to be, it made me slow to set up / pack up and a few of us had to organise a locker at the gallery as we didn't know backpacks weren't allowed so I spent most of today sewing a bag/sketchbook cover which fits an A4 sketchbook, pencils, id and phone and also has some backing in it so I can easily sketch on my lap without dropping my stuff all over the place. I'm going to do a bit more work on my weird comic book page tonight but in the mean time this is my sea serpent digitally coloured, he lives at Apollo Bay and likes to sleep camouflaged amongst the lifesaver rings.

Pencil/Colored Pencils

My first finished digital drawing!

Tonight you should fall asleep with with fresh smudges of ink on your hands and fingers.