Hello, this is me in sunglasses. My name is Tricia (they/them) and I live on the east-coast of US in Maine (which is up by Canada). I look forward to the cooler weather. My goal is to draw more insects and moons in the future. Hope you have a great day~
Here’s one more of the van Gogh -style self portraits. I wanted to try with colour. What can I say? I’m in lockdown. I have time :) Posca markers on coloured A3.
Four quick self-portraits, also show-casing my quarantine haircut. I did them yesterday as a part of Leith of School of Art’s Wake up and Draw challenge. The instructions were to do Van Gogh style drawings using the short very lively lines he is renowned for. The main image was 15 minutes on A3, the other three 5 mins each on A4. The images are in ascending order, so the first one should be at the bottom and the last one as the featured image.
This is a self-portrait. I didn't use a mirror or a picture here. This is what I look like in my own memories. It's a bit misleading, I think I am skinnier than the drawing suggests, but that doesn't feel like me. I have been overweight for years and I feel like I am too skinny at the moment. I feel like I should be curvier like in the drawing. This is about body-image, body-dysmorphia even. I do have those clothes, glasses and haircut. This work is pastel on paper (it's quite big, but I don't have a measure closeby)
Self-portrait. I am practicing portraits from memory. I'm not satisfied with the eyes of this "Selfie", oh and the neck is too thin, but the rest is okay-ish?
(In)secure
Some days I put on my "business outfit". Just so I look like I got it together and then I will start feeling that way too. That is: until I become a wreck in a business suit.
January 2020. Pastel on A3 paper
Mirror self-portrait a few Minutes after a brutal streetfight... I was bleeding heavily from a skull fracture, broken nose, multiple cuts already... to add Insult to Injury, I was scarred with a "Glasgow-smile" after I got beaten to a pulp... I felt the urge to capture my emotions (and inevitable bodily fluids...) on paper after I carried myself home and looked in the mirror.
Must Survive. My neighbour is triggering one of my trauma's at the moment. Sometimes all you can do is survive, sit through and wait for it to stop. Resist. I have to be strong. My neighbour will stop (hopefully before I go to bed).
I am composed. I am more than just a label. Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes anxious (well more than just sometimes), sometimes playful, sometimes sad, sometimes brace, sometimes even too brave, sometimes creative, sometimes numb, sometimes... Oh by the way, I got a bipolar II diagnosis, for context. March 2020. Pastel on Canson cotton, honeycomb surface paper (32cmx24cm).