Fairly recently I was "commissioned" to paint a picture of my cousin and grandmother. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, but painting this was a bit of a challenge. There were definitely moments where I stopped painting and completely hated how it looked/became frustrated with myself, and I wouldn't work on it for days. I felt an odd pressure attached to making this... or maybe I'm crazy. 16x20, acrylic.
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.
A silly watercolor sketch, I know, but there's a lot tied to this little thing. There are so many bittersweet feelings lately. I tend to avoid putting a numerical value to time, I don't like the count-down aspect to things, especially knowing how obsessive I can be with that. It allows me to live in some semblance of ignorance (they say ignorance is pure bliss). There's a lot of tip-toeing around what I want to say and what I'm afraid to say, or even what I'd love to explore and embrace and simply afraid to. It's something I'm not used to. It's taken me quite a while to finally sit with certain things, or even acknowledge them, and it feels like there's so much more I'm now realizing. It's odd to be so frank to some and worried that others may find out. There's a lot of shifting again, goodbyes coming soon, complicated feelings and situations.
As a child of the 70s, I have very fond memories of sitting on the floor in front of our little colour TV, and watching and adoring Lynda Carter bounce around, kicking ass and fighting crime. I’ve always loved Wonder Woman, and I'm fascinated by the myriad ways she’s been imagined and re-imagined over the years.
For mine I focused on her dualism – the goddess beauty vs warrior strength, combined with the colour and curves of my childhood. In terms of the art, I thought it would be fun to allude to classicism for the subjects association with Greek mythology and form, and balletic contrapposto as a homage to Lynda's classic spin.
Prints available via my website.
An abstract and floral doodle of mine that is available as a print on products on Redbubble, Society6, Zazzle, and Threadless. Try this link for access to all: https://linktr.ee/okhismakingart
Chromatography is used in chemistry to dissolve a mixture and place it into a "mobile phase," which allows the solvent to carry it and its components up the paper. It shows the layers, exposing deeper, hidden tones and colors, something only seen when a solvent of the same polarity is used. It's odd. Life feels a bit like that, and I'm seeing the colors separate for the first time. It's all there, everything that's been hidden in the inky mess for the past however many years. And now it's smeared. Bold. Clear. But blurry. What's on me and what's on you? Where do we go from here?
This is my first plant abstract in over six months because college takes up all my time during the school year now. This one was supposed to be more pastel, but the scanner washed out some of the lighter colors.
What I hate about myself is - some odd day like today, I’ll have a memory of an elephant. Instead of trying to forget, I try to remember and accept what the emotion is trying to convey #anniversaryreminder #randomquotes
The Sunbeam and the Troll. Illustration of famous Finnish song. I draw three versions of it. Top of the drawings is last and then second and first one. I try to catch idea that Sunbeam fairy is more made of light than materia. Pretty tricky to me ;)
”When sun had ended its mission,
The last Sunbeam
Was left behind her sisters for a moment.
The dusk was settling on the grounds,
A Sunbeam with golden wings
Was just about to fly before it,
But she saw a small Troll come across:
It had just risen up from his cave.
See,a Troll before the twilight
May never live on earth.
They were looking at each other
The Troll in his chest
Felt an odd flame.
He said:"You are burning my eyes,
But never in my life
have I seen something so wonderful!" It doesn't matter that your brightness will make me blind
It's easy to wander in dark.”
And this is my only contribution to mermay.
It doesn't look very good, I know. But I'm glad to draw a mermaid for the first time on mermay, I dreamed about it when I could only draw squiggles. I drew it for half a month, and during this time, I even managed to come up with a deep (don't shoot) lore.
According to my idea, Eddie needed some sunken cargo (and not only him). Amber offered her help in exchange for some relic of her people, which is stored in the Gotham Museum (even being a mermaid, she is an opportunist). Eddie told her to go to hell and tried to get the cargo with the help of his robots, which Amber successfully sabotaged underwater to pressure him into the deal.
In this drawing, Eddie's ran out of luck and got himself roughened up and almost drowned (definitely not Batman this time). Amber saved his skin. No gratitude is expected yet, but this is the least of their problems. Jean advises Amber (they are not at odds in this AU) to leave the polluted waters near Gotham before something happens to her and her health, but she is stupidly stubborn when it comes to the Riddler (and her goals).
Cover for my fanfic i writing for "Batman: Zero Year" comic.
After Zero: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63498001
"I bloom, a flower fair and bright, A needed thing, for two, a light. In hearts' soft garden, breezes play, I grow in strength with each new day."
The Riddler nodded patiently, his eyes half-lidded in boredom. Amber devoted almost all her energy to keep reciting this stupid rhyme that she had composed and practiced until she turned pale from exhaustion. The remaining part of her energy was spent on NOT clutching her jacket.
"But then, a worm, with wicked bite. Gnawed at my grain and dimmed my light. A spreading blight, a change so foul. Cursed my existence, took its toll. My two companions, caught in strife. Began to gnaw and hurt their life. Absorbing poison, bit by bit. They both grew sick, they couldn't quit."
"…"
“Who am I?"
The Riddler lazily raised his eyes to the sky and just as slowly raised his hands.
"Love!"
His voice was full of theatrical reverence. He didn’t even pretended that the riddle made him ponder over it.
"To be more precise — twisted love. Am I right?"
