Overheard the title on the radio this weekend describing Radiohead songs of the In Rainbows era (you probably know the one)… And that ends my current sketchbook!
I woke up at 5am(ish) last Sunday and not settling back to rest, I switched my radio on and hoped for the best. Next thing I know I’m half awake listening to one of Yo La Tengo’s more drone oriented songs. The track itself was 8 minutes long but felt longer… of course, this gave me ideas. What do you expect?
Behind the Russian Church there is an abyss.
The moss and the rubbish are slippery and jagged old tins glitter at the bottom. For hundreds of years they have piled up higher and higher against a long dark-red house without windows. The red house crawls round the rock and it is very significant that it has no windows. Behind the house is the harbour, a silent harbour with no boats in it. The little wooden door in the rock below the church is always locked.
Hold your breath when you run past it, I told Poyu. Otherwise Putrefaction will come out and catch you. Poyu always has a cold. He can play the piano and holds his hands in front of him as if he were afraid of being attacked or was apologizing to someone. I always scare him and he follows me because he wants to be scared.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
A series of drawings I did digitally developing Florien ir'Litvin as a character as well as a little scene featuring him and Enna ir'Olar --- The whistling of the blizzard outside dropped into a lull as a gleaming gold chalice was passed between the Seekers. Candles winked out one at a time, dropping the temple into a pervasive gloom. Enna and Florien drank deeply, crimson lingering on their lips. Senses overwhelmed with magic, they leaned against each other. They could feel each other's heart thrumming unsteadily in their chest as they were gifted with a clarity that only their blood could bring. Together they knew they could face anything the year would bring.
Medium : Pen and Ink
size : 11'' x 15'' Bristol Board
Date : 1993
This study of a piano was done for a woman who was a missionary with her husband. They served in a Christian ministry that reached out to military personal and their families, through the teaching of the Holy Bible and showing hospitality. They have been missionaries most of their lives. I met them while i was a summer missionary the year I was in college. I went back two more summer to help , and they became my friends. The woman is a gifted piano player, so I was asked if i could do an illustration of her piano for her. This couple have inspired me through their dedication of using their lives to serve God through serving others, that many may know God through the teaching, and living out the Word before others.
Réalisation d'une affiche/programme A3 pour la saison 2018/2019 des Spectaculaires de L'Excelsior.
des spectacles de théâtre, d’objets, marionnettes, cirque présentés en séances Tout Public à la Salle Jean Carmet à Allonnes près du Mans. http://lexcelsior.fr/category/les-spectaculaires/
Medium: Ink on Sketch Book Paper
Size: 15” x 25”
Year: 10/04/2019
This Illustration is my Pumpkin carve design for the Great Pumpkin Carve, sponsored by The Chad’s Ford Pa. Historical Society.
I have been participating in this event since 2006.
I designed this picture to illustrate the human heart toward God.
Understanding the symbolism in the design
Human heart: A Fortress
God’s Communion with Man Kind: Irish trinity flowers, with the crown, cross, dove
God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit
The two doors: the diverse ways mankind communes with God.
The door with the thorny flower design: A religious person who live with out power. They refuse to allow God to sit on the throne in their lives.
The door with the Grape Vine design: A follower of Jesus, who summit their lives to God’s lordship.
John 15:5 New King James Version (NKJV)
5 “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.
Stephen J. Vattimo 10/04/2019
“Following the sun, to find the one / Who's giving you the wings to fly… / Following the sun, like everyone / Searching for a sign of hope…” — Song lyrics by Enigma. Watercolor, ink and colour pencil on watercolour paper
This is Yuri Vokova. Hes a werewolf servant to the Vasile household and the personal bodyguard of Lumin. He's probably one of the only decent people in Lumin's life.
If a thousand girls walked past under this tree not one of them would have the faintest idea that I am sitting up there. The pine cones are green and very hard. My feet are brown. And the wind is blowing right through my hair.
Sculptor's daughter by Tove Jansson.
#dailydrawing #toveJansson
I missed the deadline to post. I drew this early in the day but I waited after work, late at night to post. I'm starting to realize that I need to do these early in the day, especially before work but I decided to live on the edge and see how close to midnight I can post ,got sloppy, and then this happened.....lesson learned :(
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?
I started by thinking up the most awful things I could, which wasn't particularly difficult. When I had made things as awful as possible I took a run and bounced off the floor and flew away from everything, leaving it all behind me in a deep well. Down there the whole town was burning. Down there Poppolino was padding around in the studio in the dark screaming with loneli-ness. Down there sat the crow saying: it was your fault that I died. And the Unmentionable Thing crawled under the mat.
But I just went on flying.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
In fact, she [Mummy] said after a while, we have gone into hibernation. Nobody can get in any longer and no one can get out!
I looked carefully at her and understood that we were saved. At last we were absolutely safe and protected.
This menacing snow had hidden us inside in the warm for ever and we didn't have to worry a bit about what went on there outside. I was filled with enormous relief, and I shouted, I love you I LOVE YOU, and took all the cushions and threw them at her and laughed and shouted and Mummy threw them all back and in the end we were lying on the floor just laughing.
Then we began our underground life. We walked around in our nighties and did nothing. Mummy didn't draw. We were bears with pine needles in our stomachs and anyone who dared come near our winter lair was torn to pieces. We were lavish with the wood, and threw log after log on to the fire until it roared.
Sometimes we growled. We let the dangerous world outside look after itself, it had died, it had fallen out into space. Only Mummy and I were left.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
