Words of wisdom that a friend came out with during a Lord Of The Rings Extended Editions film night over the weekend jumpstarted my creative juices this time around. :-)
My favorite way to eliminate the often paralyzing fear of "ruining" "good" paper is to just paint on any and all junk mail that comes into my house. Higher end catalogs are great for this, they don't use slick, thin paper (and even that gets used in collage or as a desk cover for other projects) and they're already bound for you. Just add marks! Carry it with you. Scan the pages you like. Cut it up later for making other art. It's "just" junk mail, so there is literally no pressure. I have HUNDREDS of these type of things and I run across them all the time, forgotten, in some old backpack or purse or drawer and it's a treasure to look through them again, and add new marks, paints and words.
I keep coming back to this Vice headline I saw and took a screenshot of this time last week, which inspired the title of this piece. Seems like a relevant metaphor to me (and others I know) for so many reasons right now! Thankfully nothing too traumatic in my case...
Taking a break from photo editing to get creative in other areas...
Over the Beltane weekend, my girlfriend and I watched the British dub of Urusei Yatsura over on YouTube. Yes, I assure anyone not aware, such a thing exists and my word is it hilarious (but not for the easily offended! Oh and while, I'm here, may the 4th be with you :-)
Phew! What a fortnight it's been here. Been engaging more in my photography as of late, but the day-job's had me on 'go' mode all Easter quite frankly. Thank the maker for those moments to yourself when you can just.. well, indulge really.
A wonderful reflective poem from Wendell Berry entitled "How to be a poet" is a fantastic foundation for an art curriculum. The last of three stanzas reads as follows:
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.
Reminds me of a Buddhist proverb: Patiently I will bear harsh words as the elephant bears arrows on the battlefield. Words are powerful. They stir emotions. We are the managers of our emotions. It is not what happens to us that is the issue, it is our opinion of what happens to us that is the issue. Peace.
Kept myself occupied during a quiet day at work earlier by getting a head-start on things here, and my word it was quiet! Well...ish (towards the end that is).
An attempt at organizing my 'why' for making drawing the center of my curriculum, and selling the idea to my students. Suggestions for refinements welcome.
Something warm coloured for the incoming spring. Also befitting of the feelings a lot of folks in my life (and myself included) seem to be feeling right now! Much cobweb detangling figuratively speaking this month past, that much is true...
Rainy days = a perfect excuse for a shedload of coffee and drawing to indulge in. :)
Occurs to me I did one with the title “Laurel Weaver” close to four years ago. Not much else connects the two beyond the title or does it? I don’t know...
Whatever the case, I fancied recycling and revisiting this idea somehow. Enjoy!
Bearskullpine
A new bigger version of my earlier drawing
In the Finnish mythology killing of a bear was followed by a great feast in honour of the bear (peijaiset), where a substantial part of the celebrations consisted of convincing the bear's spirit that it had died accidentally and hadn't been murdered. Afterwards, the bear's skull was hung high upon a pine tree so its spirit could re-enter the heavens. The bones of the bear were then buried under the pine.
