Skip to content | Skip to navigation
It's almost 2:30 in the morning and I just finished working on several peices of art that are in various stages.
I spent 4 1/2 hours working. It didn't seem that long, until my thumb locked up.
I used to spend 16 hours a day going from painting to painting, stopping only briefly, mainly to use the bathroom or fix a cup of tea or eat somthing.
It's frustrating because I would have just kept painting through tomorrow until sleep demanded my attention.
I'm wide awake, but my hands have demanded a rest.
Part of what I did tonight was increase the color and begin some new experimentation with splattering the watercolor in various thickness's to see what would happen as it dried.
I found that white is great for softening the feel of the background.
I'm thinking this one that I did a heavy spray of white will end up being about faires.
Since I started by putting water and some light washes of color down and then it occured to me that spraying color on might be a way to increase...somthing...
I got to a point where I wanted to try doing the same thing that's familiar and it started out fine, but it just didn't feel right.
So, I added more water to blend the color out and it just started going the same way that all the other watercolors start out.
Then as I was looking at the painting, I started thinking make your own way.
Create your own mythology. Crabmen, half-crab half-man.
Only crabmen sounded really stupid.
So I'm playing with a name for it.
Something just occured to me, when I decited to do art, the problem I was having earlier just seemed to subside and then go away.
I didn't notice it until just now.
Another sign post that I'm suppose to do the one thing I know I'm supposed to do?
Everything keeps ending up here. Everything stops here.
But I'm horrible at marketing. I hate the idea that I have to go and smooze with gallery owners and business owners, just to get it out there.
I know I'm suppose to be doing art.
But money...shit..same old crap, over and over.
Ok, enough with the side track. Back to what I got done tonight, before my hand so politely reminded me that I needed to respect my hands and give them rest.
The other backgrounds arn't so defined. I'm wondering if less water and make the paint more consistant with ink. If I use water over that, spray it on, then..that might be what I'm looking for.
Kind of a dream state to start from.
I'm pretty sure that for awhile at least, I'm going to be doing pen overlays.
They will be somewhere between illustrations and paintings.
A rickity bridge between two worlds.
I hope that I can get to the place with the pen overlays where it looks like pencil.
I've been thinking about bits of colored pencil..touches, but if I do, I think it would be best to just stay with white.
I noticed something else, all of the backgrounds that I did over the last two days are primarily blue and red.
Some have yellow as well, but the predominate colors are blue and red.
No green, which strikes me as weird. I love green. Green is like breathing to me.
But I didn't notice the green or draw to it when I was putting color down initally.
I'm sure it has to do with the other things in my life that are going sideways.
Red is passion. All kinds and every kind you can think of.
It's instant. It's in your face.
Blue on the other hand is calm, sad. Emotions. Deep hidden away emotions. Tears. Heartache. Sleep. Prelude to death, prelude to life.
Blue exterior, red interior.
Calm on the outside. Ignited and blazing on the inside.
The water outside. Molent lava inside. The core. Life.
Mermaids. maybe that's what brought on the crabmen..I need another name for that.
It sounds like some bug that is marching on the city and they need to call some superhero to fight them off.
...somthing greek...maybe russian mix...hmmm
their nature? How they came to be.
I also started a second in a series of three works dealing with micology.
I'm not doing the normal forest scape. But I'm wandering around.
And I don't know how their going to end up.
I realized something about 2 am. That I'm still searching for a defined road here. But I know I need to just let go one more time.
Just play, less control when I paint.
Or draw, or do what ever other creative explosion happens.
I'm not sure what I'm doing.
I've been exploring pen over the last almost 8 months.
Everything ends up being so intense.
I love the immages that show up.
The water color have taken a background role in this direction.
their story stills and the pen asorbs it.
I started this on little wood shapes and got to the point where the shape disapeared and all I was aware of was the canvas so to speak in front of me.
I feel like I'm wandering, and nothing fits.
But at least I'm doing art again. And that's all that matters.
At the bottom of everything, it only matters that I'm doing art.
Maybe I should work tord the idea that I don't need to be a master, maybe that would help me find my way.
I know the more I work each day, the finely tuned my feel for the pen will become.
Funny, such an inexpensive tool being used to create art.
I keep telling myself it's just doodling.
Keep it simple and easy.
No thoughts about what anyone thinks.
At first, the choice of ballpoint pen was a private protest against the ideals of tradition.
I wanted to thumb my nose at all the art snobs that think only certian types of work are worthy.
I wanted it to be a statement about simplicity. And making art accessable to everyone.
And making it fun, instead of this big overwhelming thing, you have to go to college for to learn how to do it right.
Make my skin crawl!
Then it changed. I found I loved how clean and crisp I could make lines, and with practice I found that soft shading is possible.
It lost it's protest clothes and became something wonderful.
And what's even better is that I can get ballpoint pens anywhere.
Anyway, I'm now starting to the rest of my body asking for sleep.
I think my brain needs it too.
I'm off to never neverland. I'm going to swim with the mermaids I think...