Bic4 Ballpoint Pen, Sanrio Novelty 10 Colour Ballpoint Pen on Archival 8.5" x 11" paper.
A breakdown of the Bic4 pen and No-name 10 colour pen layering that I’ve used.
Drawing in a single direction instead of using back-and-forth movement alleviates some of the blotching that happens when using ballpoint pens. The back-and-forth method usually deposits the gunk that builds up on the tip of the ballpoint, smearing them in unexpected and unfortunate places on the drawing. When using the back-and-forth method, I usually have a napkin handy in order to clean the tip of the pen. Model: Meadhbh (Maeve)
(HB pencil on a 139mm x 87mm postcard) It's not surprising that the pandemic would inspire me to do a work such as this. How could it not? It shows both the growing need for social interaction people have in isolation, along with the need to protect themselves. These two things have come together in a piece depicting a strange group of gate-crashing party-goers.
'Good Morning' quick sketch from my sketchbook showing my morning chicory / barley coffee with new morning #quaratine routine. A stared series of quick everyday sketches about mixing everyday food with the ideas of cosmos and universe.
Not sure which direction it will go, but the main purpose of it is to draw and draw more especially after sucha long break in drawing....!
(4B pencil on a 125mm x 105mm sheet of toilet paper) To commemorate the UK leaving the EU, I decided to add my little "celebration" to mark the occasion, in the form of an inverted union flag, crudely drawn on a single sheet of toilet paper. A false sense of nationalism drove the UK out of the EU. It's therefore to be wondered how far that nationalism will serve the country on the outside. Probably as far as one sheet of toilet paper. "Mind how you go!"
The Ford Taurus was the most boring car I could think of. This selection of doodles are all just ink on paper, applied with a brush. The black circle behind the cats was Sharpie. I had a design back there, decided I super-hated-it, and then screwed the whole thing up. Ah well. The cats are still okay.
Joan Miró (1893-1983)
Miró always maintained a rigidly inflexible daily routine—both because he disliked being distracted from his work, and because he feared slipping back into the severe depression that had afflicted him as a young man, before he discovered painting. To help prevent a relapse, his routine always included vigorous exercise—boxing in Paris; jumping rope and Swedish gymnastics at a Barcelona gym; and running on the beach and swimming at Mont-roig, a seaside village where his family owned a farmhouse.
Miró hated for this routine to be interrupted by social or cultural events. As he told an American journalist, “Merde! I absolutely detest all openings and parties! They’re commercial, political, and everybody talks too much. They get on my tits!”
From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
"The guy in 4 C? No one sees him much. I think his name is Sheldon but ain't nobody knows his last name. Carrie...in 5C, says he's a telemarketer er sumthin' like that. He just stays in there all the time. Makes his calls and watches that t.v. Late into t
Samuel Beckett (1906–1989)
On a late-night walk near Dublin harbor, Beckett found himself standing on the end of a pier in the midst of a winter storm. Amid the howling wind and churning water, he suddenly realized that the “dark he had struggled to keep under” in his life—and in his writing, which had until then failed to find an audience or meet his own aspirations—should, in fact, be the source of his creative inspiration.
“I shall always be depressed,” Beckett concluded, “but what comforts me is the realization that I can now accept this dark side as the commanding side of my personality. In accepting it, I will make it work for me.”
- From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #samuelbeckett @masoncurrey
Skylight from Dialogues in Paradise by Can Xue.
The light shrank back into two dots. A dark shadow brushed by, a clumsy night bird that shrieked and swooped toward the skylight, its huge wings tapping the roof fiercely, echoing like thunder.
