There are some things I’m so grateful for in 2018 and then there was a lot of stuff that I would love to go away. So this is my farewell art. There’s nothing random in this doodle but I’ll keep most of it to myself. Let’s hope for a way better 19.
"There's a North in us all, but my North can't hold me anymore." Oh man, what a day/week/month it's been. Today was the end of first semester, a bit hard to believe half the year is gone, a bit hard to believe we still have half of a year left. The past 24 hours have been nothing less than mental chaos (maybe my coach was foreshadowing all of this when he asked if I was ok last night...) Anyway, here I am, here we are. Llemette on the left (name credit to Josefina), February journal on the right.
The challenging thing with just using pen is that I can't paint over a mistake. I usually redo a face more than once. I didn't mean to make their face so stoic, it makes them look like a statue.
Completed my first commission of the year — inspired by my Dream Tree mural in Bristol, for a couple from the neighbourhood who walk by the mural nearly every day
I've been seeing lots of new bird species around my neighbourhood, like robins and magpies!
I like to think this bird is watching me from the sea of uncertainty, and looking at all the things I will create in the future and secretly telling me to go on, without me knowing how they will turn out. And strangely, that is some kind of motivation for me. : .
I felt like doing something relatively quick with my Copic markers. This is the view from my front door. Not a very scenic neighborhood, but the sky has been beautiful this week.
It's definitely been a bit since I've posted, sorry about that, things have gotten very chaotic very quickly. I'm officially less than a month out from graduation (the finish line is almost here!), which also means it's time for my teachers to cram in projects. Other than that, I'm happy to say I received two official art commissions! I'm hoping to get something set up to hopefully begin selling some pieces, but, for now, I'll have some pieces in a gallery soon. Things, things, things, and Tony's face. Part of a larger project, hopefully to be completed soon.
Man oh man, it's been a week. The chaos is strong with this one. It was really fun to draw this, there's something so calming about shading with graphite; it felt like the only time I was present this week. But hey, I suppose that's why art is here. As a side note, thank you so much for 70 followers! It's truly incredible to part of an amazing community of artists, and I genuinely appreciate everyone's support and feedback. Here's to creating more art!
Zoomed in shot of "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead". Created in 2012. Size: 22” x 30” / Micron Pens on Archival Paper. This piece was all drawn freehand - no rulers or measuring tools were used to create this artwork. 2019 kinda looked like this. It had a lot going on. Lots of changes. A close friend of mine predicted 2019 would be "The year of change", and she was right… at least up in my neck of the woods. Anyway, it has been full of good, fun and challenging things – all worth while. Excited to dive into 2020.
A "longer" colored pencil drawing, took about 4 days, 6.25" x 6.25". What originated from a moment of frustration turned into me staring at some flowers in our house, and then into the drawing I now present. The piece's original purpose has shifted, and hey, that happens. I'm not sure what I'll do with it now, but I'll figure something out...
One of my favorite things about being a parent is listening to the stories my daughter makes up and really trying to encourage her imagination. She has named a bunch of the cacti which line our windowsills, while our cacti are very accustomed to their suburban lives they also like a bit of adventure, this is a group of them taking a family vacation to the desert.
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?
Sometimes I feel like my drawing is similar to composing music. I start drawing just something and hope that it begins its own life.
In this drawing i start from the clouds and doesnt have any idea what it is gonna be at end.
