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...
Old drawing that I had contributed to a charity art book for Japanese tsunami relief efforts. Feel free to follow my facebook for additional updates! http://www.facebook.com/sonialaiart
This started as a line drawing based on a photo of peonies in the garden. It’s drawn with three different pens: Micron 005, Micron 03 and Faber Castell Pitt superfine (0.3) on 11x14 Strathmore Bristol Vellum. The paper isn’t terribly tolerant of wet media, so I played around with tinting it in Photoshop because I wasn't sure how it would go. But I liked it in color enough to chance painting the drawing with the nice and bright Dr Ph Martin Hydrus watercolors. It's photographed it on my drafting table with my glasses for scale. The lamp has a daylight bulb, so I think the color (at least where the light is more prominent) is fairly true.
Maia, one of two current German Shepherds was born here at our house ten years ago. She is a grand old lady with a big ears, a big ruff and a sweet personality. This drawing was done from a photo reference AND her sleeping at my feet. I used Pigma Micron Pens in black and brown with a little graphite smudging to add a bit of shadow.
This is my most recent work, just finished. I really had a lot of fun with this one. It didn’t turn out as colorful as I hoped but the contrast is spot on. If you’d like to give me a suggesting, i’m still trying to decide if i should fill the lower right chest area of the horse. It doesn’t make sense to leave it blank but i’m afraid changing it might ruin what I have. Any opinion is welcome! :)
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?
30 minute sketch in tinted charcoal on toned black paper. This spider lives outside my window and I have the perfect view of her catching wasps all day.
One of my favourite series. I'm trying to strike the right balance between the abstract and the realism, and I think I try to do that through my use of colours. It's the most rewarding feeling when you use unexpected colours and they come together somehow! Acrylics, watercolour pens and posca markers.
Hello, this is me in sunglasses. My name is Tricia (they/them) and I live on the east-coast of US in Maine (which is up by Canada). I look forward to the cooler weather. My goal is to draw more insects and moons in the future. Hope you have a great day~
A transmundane Tuesday prompt by Carson Ellis (with a serpent tail, in a hat, smoking a pipe). https://www.instagram.com/p/B8NSotBh5I2/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
It's ok to not make sense. It's ok to not follow a pattern. It's ok to be the odd one out.
Life is too beautiful, too amazing, to eccentric, too weird to fit inside someone else's tiny little box of an opinion about you. Break free out of that and live your life on your terms.
I have dragged this typewriter around for more than 50 years. I found it in an antique store when I was in college. It's still fully useable, except that it's REALLY hard to find ribbons. Basically, it's just another object to dust. But it is a beautifully made object. The basic shapes and perspective were blocked in with a 2H pencil, then I used a Sakura 005 micron pen to do the contour drawing.