Beginning.
Tom loved storms. He would wear stormclouds as fancy collars and pretend to be the King of France.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CQRCNG2hL6D/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
I was thinking about oposites and enemies and realized. Well not realized but understood that everyone has a person deep down inside, that is their alter ego. It is important to reach that sometimes. Here we are.
No, I can't get it out of my head, now my whole world is gone for dead. This song has been stuck in my head for a while now, kind of interesting. I apologize for the long ramble of reflection this will be, but here I go. It's been an interesting few weeks, ups and downs, odd mindsets, but here I am. I don't know, quarantine has shifted a lot of things for everyone, and I've noticed a lot of changes in myself. I jokingly say I'm becoming soft, but it's a bit true, in a good way. I'm thankful for so many people in my life, and I'm finally letting those people how much they mean to me. I know I've said this before, but gymnastics has really been getting me through, and I'm proud of all the progress I've been making recently. My coaches make my life better, they're just incredible people and I love them so much. Thank you to the person I had a whole long text conversation with tonight (you know who you are) and for always dealing with my chaotic self. And finally, I've started to accept who I am, and that's a nice feeling. There's still the dark parts, the static still consumes me from time to time, but tonight was a good night. Thank you for all the support from everyone (in and outside of this community!). I genuinely appreciate all of it
Watercolors and fineliners on Aquarelle, 300 GSM. Fantasy has always appealed to me ever since I was a kid, and I often find myself lost and wandering around in the fantastical world of "could've been's"
Abstracted lionfish, as part of a project where I'm drawing animals using different art styles/techniques each time. Made with digital watercolor brushes.
A portrait painting of a vintage dislocated puppet head. Created with mixed media including vintage storybook pages, old photographs and stamps. Pen and ink, gouache, and watercolours.
Been a busy couple of weeks, school holidays are always a bit tricky to find time. I have been working on some illustrations for a software product that my husband and I are building so I can't share those at this stage but I was back at the gallery today sketching with my new drawing group, I spent most of my time with a bunch of Mesoamerican statues. I am starting to not get so freaked out by people watching me draw :)
Many beginnings.
Beginning 3.
The mouse was going on an adventure. But he just couldn't decide what to take with him. He wanted his favorite shoes and second favorite shoes. His tennis racket and the cactus he was given for his birthday. And so he put his house on the wheels and went on an adventure in his rolly polly house.
* Starting is easy, it's the middle that is often a muddle. And I won't even mention the endings. Here are some beginnings for children stories that flitter through my head.
https://www.instagram.com/p/COktNgnhex4/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Dream of the Yellow Chrysanthemum from Dialogues in Paradise by Can Xue.
I was hiding behind the window aiming my air gun at a squirrel on a roof in the distance. I had been taking aim for two hours. But when I finally shot, full of confidence, the steel pellet zinged right into Old Jiang's arm. God knows why I lost my mind at the crucial moment, I was born with the impulsive personality. Immediately he jumped up and dashed into the room, shouting, "Murder! Murder!" I was totally embarrassed.
Beginning
This may be hard to believe, but giraffes are very particular about their boots.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CPtkGO3B328/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
Artwork on "the other side" - playing with the bleed-through from the watercolor and intuitiviely allowing the shapes to arise. Created using watercolor, coffee, ink, graphic pens and unipen
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Mary Oliver
