Art du Jour 61

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What started out as a serious exploration of watercolour blending quickly turned silly. The left hand side you see here was originally the top, until I held the paper up to let gravity work its magic on the paint flow and this funny sad face appeared. And I found myself enhancing it with a few details.

So if you stand back, it’s just splashes of lovely bright colours. Up close it becomes something which might frighten a small child.

In the many artistic endeavours I’ve come across in the blog world there are some things I really like and some I don’t, and some that don’t particularly move me one way or the other although I can always appreciate the creative process.  Art is a very subjective thing.  And artists are sometimes their own worst critics and very hard on themselves.  Writers are like this too, humbled by what they feel is better work than their own, when it might simply be different – not more or less, not better or worse.

A little humility is a good thing, and working to be better is admirable.  But we should also strive for self-confidence and feeling good about who we are and what we do.  Drawing the line at turning into raving egotistical nut jobs of course.  It’s a fine balance.

All that was a long convoluted way to get to the part where I say positive things about my art. Even when it’s not likely to end up in the Louvre.  Yes, I did just roll my eyes.

I absolutely love these colours, and the hinted at flowers and the splatters of ink.  I love that I’ve learned how too much blending turns into a muddy brown and how I will learn to avoid that in the future.  And I love that I can see faces where they weren’t necessarily meant to be.

Happy Thursday!  I love that I always appear to know what day of the week it is too.  Yay me.

Art du Jour 46

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I’ve been missing my charcoal.  This doesn’t look much like my magazine picture model, but I’m sure she must look like somebody.  I started off on this project with the intention of drawing 365 faces.  Obviously I’ve gone off on a lot of tangents.  Now I’m just doing a count of art days and anything goes.

It was a lovely quiet Sunday here,  once W got back inside from a couple of hours of blowing snow all over the neighbourhood this morning.

I wish I was kidding. Third day of snowfall in a row.  But higher temperatures in the forecast so it will soon be gone.  I try to never complain about rain,  because at least it’s not snow.

Does this look like a young Jane Fonda to you?  It wasn’t supposed to.  What the hell.  I’ll just pretend I meant to do that.

Art du Jour 42

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This is what happens when you change your mind sixteen times before, during, and after breakfast.  And a few more times after lunch.  Glad I don’t have to peel the layers off this one.  I watched a lot of YouTube mixed media instructional videos yesterday and apparently decided to try all of them out at once.

Hope you’re having a great Saturday!  And that this didn’t give you a migraine!  Next up – aiming for a focal point.

Art du Jour 41

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Just in case you thought I might be slacking off in the creativity business, here’s number three in my nameless series of egg head girls.   A lot of drying time is involved in the many layers.  There’s more depth to this one and a cooler palette than the first two.

I hoped it would have more of an under water feel, but despite the seaweed hair it looks a little wintry instead.

W is having a rum (that’s like saying he’s breathing) so I am going to wash the paint off my hands and join him.  Let’s just call it celebrating the end of a beautiful spring-ish kind of day.

 

Art du Jour 40

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Here is what appears to be the second piece in a series.  If I get to number three I guess I’ll have to name it something.

Many years ago I purchased a book called House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski.  It is 700 plus pages of nightmare inducing insanity.  There are many different fonts, margins are all over the place, some pages are blank, some are written sideways or upside down.  It is filled with footnotes and appendices.  Notice I’m not telling you what this novel is about.  Frankly I’m not sure.  However, it is the most perfect mishmash of pages ever to repurpose into art.  I am not destroying a book, I am immortalizing it.  And in the process, not making it any less difficult to read, really.

My process starts with ripping out pages, cutting them up, painting them both sides with a mixture of acrylic paint and matte varnish, and sticking them on a canvas.  In a pleasing artistic fashion, or in a bizarre confusing mess.  Or both.  Then layers are added until it’s time to stop.  That’s actually the hard part, telling myself, okay, this is good, leave it alone and walk away.

This daylight saving thing should not be screwing up my schedule since I don’t even have one anymore, but things like eating and sleeping have not been by the clock this week.  I’m far behind in replying to comments and getting through e-mail and sometimes I watch crime shows first thing in the morning with my coffee.

There, that’s all the secrets you’re getting out of me today.  I have a book to cut up.  And that’s something I never thought I’d say.

Art du Jour 39

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If there is such a thing as a serious artist, I’m not it.  If it feels like work, I don’t want to do it.

This was 1% work and 99% fun.  I am in love with the colours.

Maybe I’m going through a phase or maybe I’m still feverish and delirious from a couple of days spent this side of miserable with a stuffed up head.  Or maybe it was the other side of miserable.  It was the bad side, anyway.  I consoled myself by watching multitudinous episodes of Netflix crime shows, congratulating myself on not being a murder victim.  See, there’s always somebody worse off.

It’s a beautiful sunny March weekend!  Hope you’re having a good one.

Art du Jour 38

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I wonder if I should tell you how many times this portrait came close to being crumpled up and chucked.  Halfway done I began to dislike her intensely.

But today I scrubbed her eyes out and redid them not so wide set,  put her in a window and declared her finished.

Or maybe it’s me that’s finished.

I suppose being critical is a good thing and will make me better.

Happy Sunday!

Well, now it is.  Earlier I wasn’t so sure.  It’s not every day you scrub somebody’s eyes out.