I tried to catch my breath after all the running; I finally got to the bus stop. The wind was blowing vigorously, the rain clouds were approaching. It was a very typical spring morning.
Digital painting on canvas of "Michel Onfray" in the manner of the praise of the approximation of the exhibition. This graphic and stylistic style is borrowed from the concept elaborated in the Praise of Approximation ": a painting to be reconstructed using the structure to which the perceptions are subordinated, highlighting the perceptual disturbances of perception. whose memory has been recorded in the brain of each individual.
Peinture numérique sur toile de « Michel Onfray » à la manière de l’éloge de l’approximation de l’exposition. Ce style graphique et stylistique sont emprunt au concept élaboré dans l’Éloge de l’approximation » : une peinture à reconstruire à l’aide de la structure à laquelle sont subordonnées les perceptions qui met en évidence les troubles de la perception liés à la manière dont le souvenir a été enregistré dans le cerveau de chaque individu.
Apolonia Cacadu (her family is calling her: Polly) is a working girl. Very hard working. During the day, she works part time in three different places, and in the evenings she professionally swings on a swing above the bar counter, in the "Under parrots" pub. Because of this constant running around the city, there is little time for her to eat, and often her daily meal is just a handful of crackers (which she loves) and a few green olives with pepper. That’s why her weight is rather featherlike. She dreams about a trip to the Amazon rainforest and spreading her wings as a dancer (she’s great at dance hall and twerking).
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
Rainy days = a perfect excuse for a shedload of coffee and drawing to indulge in. :)
Occurs to me I did one with the title “Laurel Weaver” close to four years ago. Not much else connects the two beyond the title or does it? I don’t know...
Whatever the case, I fancied recycling and revisiting this idea somehow. Enjoy!
Just another day of struggling with it. Motivation feeling quite a bit dry, even if my brain is overactive with ideas. Decided to just say "screw it" and went with this doodle.
Day two of my art training! It took way too long, haha. So, anyways, this is my DnD character, Pox's, dad. I have no idea what to name him because lately, I have been very uncreative. Anyways! This guy is the god of illness and poison, and is just generally really cool. I like him, even if I don't like this drawing all too much.
