Started as the weekly prompt, but I kinda wandered off track. So instead of drawing yin and yang in opposing colors like I sat down to do, the B-Team happened in secondary colors!
Truth be told this was a Pinterst try, so its very much inspired by a lovely piece of artwork that want mine, I only tired to imitate the overall thing
I live on Toronto's waterfront, and everyday there seems to be something new to sketch. I'm trying to keep busy with this whole COVID-19 epidemic. I really can't help but to keep sketching, keeps me sane from all the fear going around.
This piece was done with watercolour crayons, crayons, fineliner, acrylic paint and a touch of posca. I was showing that love can be blind and sometimes almost arrogant and selfish, the arrow has hit the spot on the second attempt but the scars are still to be seen. Although the person playing cupid aint always an outside force. I enjoy playing with the titles and am constantly changing and thinking of what it will be called when doing the piece, but i do like my wordplay. this one was a play on horticulture and felt it all tied in to the final design :))
This is available as an a3 sized print.
Even if it is (in my case at the least) just doodling away to the point of allsorts in the hopes it’ll make at least one person a) happy b) perked or c) amused, do good and be good in wake of the current shitstorms in the making.
More for another day...
Jane Austen (1775–1817)
Austen never lived alone and had little expectation of solitude in her daily life. Her final home, a cottage in the village of Chawton, England, was no exception: she lived there with her mother, her sister, a close friend, and three servants, and there was a steady stream of visitors, often unannounced.
...
Austen wrote in the family sitting room, “subject to all kinds of casual interruptions,” her nephew recalled. She was careful that her occupation should not be suspected by servants, or visitors, or any persons beyond her own family party. She wrote upon small sheets of paper which could easily be put away, or covered with a piece of blotting paper. There was, between the front door and the offices, a swing door which creaked when it was opened; but she objected to having this little inconvenience remedied, because it gave her notice when anyone was coming.
“Composition seems to me impossible with a head full of joints of mutton & doses of rhubarb.”
From Daily rituals by Mason Currey
#dailyrituals #inktober #janeAusten @masoncurrey
Fun with gouache! While I was painting this, I learned that "scumble"/"scumbling" are words used to describe the action of dry brush painting, so my detective's name is Scumbles.
