Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Monday, 16 March 2009
Around October time, last year, I started using an old inverted CD spool cover as a temporary bin, at hand on my desktop, for my pencil shavings. It seemed like a more practical solution to the problem of keeping shavings off the floor than dragging my paper bin into the middle of the room each time I sat down to scribble.
At the beginning of the this year I decided to start collecting the shavings, rather than discard them at the end of a sketching session, as a fun way of charting my scribbling productivity. A more rational person might argue that the filling of sketchbook pages would be the only productivity gauge required, but my personal requirement for self amusement couldn't help but add a little status chart to the side of the spool cover, and for the past few months it has been a fond addition to my desktop.
This evening, after an enjoyable scribble (see previous post), I was rather delighted to see that I had reached a new stage of my slightly juvenile productivity graph, so I decided to take a picture as a way of sharing the moment. The perspective is a little too high to gauge correctly in the photo, but with the pencil shavings smoothed out I am right on the “showing promise” level. Hopefully I will be within reach of a peanut by the end of summer. :)
More skulls. Err... It is not that I am in any way morbid – even though my current pastime amusements seem to be focused on painting rather bleak scenes, reading quaint old gothic horror stories and sketching bones – but I do find something wonderful and, dare I say it, emotional, about many aspects that others would quickly label as slightly melancholy, or in some cases even macabre.
I've never really been very good at verbally explaining to friends the subtle, subconscious feelings I have about parched deserts, decayed buildings, arid rocky plains, gnarled trees, rusty machinery, frozen vistas and, yes, bleached bones. My close friends know me as the jovial idiot that I am, but most other people that I come into contact with fairly regularly, tend to view my sketchbooks and paintings (when caught in the act) as indicative of slightly undesirable undertones in my personality.
To be honest, it is rather fun to note these different interpretations on what I myself find appealing as opposed to the boring emotional blueprint that the vast majority of people seem to pin their souls to. This may read as bitterness on my part, but I feel more disappointed than anything.
Having said all that, I do like a little morbidity from time to time. Maybe I should sketch a few pages of real morbid material – on a bright sunny day in front of certain friends. *maniacal laugh*
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
While I was painting this I imagined the tree, as a young sapling, watching as the abbey was slowly being built and wondering what on earth the silly humans were up to. Fast forward a few centuries and the now proud old tree looks upon the sad crumbling edifice – still somewhat mystified.
“What the hell was that all about?” o_o