sleepless night

i couldnt sleep last night so around 2am i wrote this. It's more lyrical than poetic, but whatever.

It's away
It's away
It's away

Think I've lost my mind
Think I've lost my mind
Not quite sure how
But I think I've lost my mind

It's alright I guess it's fine
'cause I dont mind
I dont mind

If you see my brain
Wanderin' through the street
Just let me know
And I'll chase it down
I guess

Not really sure
What to do
It's hard to think
Without a brain

It's away
It's away
It's away

klondike

ray johnson and daniel johnson. two different people. not only different from eachother but different from everybody else. see the movies 'How to draw a bunny' and 'The devil and Daniel Johnson'. interesting stuff. somehow, as an artist, it feels good to know that other people see things similarly. I find it amazing to see people truly real and wholy themselves, not some copycat of someone else, but someone who has their own thoughts and is not afriad to themselves. sometimes i feel like i'd like to wear tight tie-dyed t-shirts and an oversized goofy plaid hat outside becuase it's what what i sometimes like to wear inside the house. Although i feel i'd get beaten up for wearing such bizarre things. i try to restrict myself sometimes. But a true artist i suppose would just do their own things and damn everyone else. right? anyways, check out those movies. cool stuff.

i started making pages for a book presummably titled 'expiermentals'. i had off-handedly set the two completed watercolours aside an old sheet with some words. bingo! an accidental triptic. ok works for me. i thought they looked pleasing together. there seemed to be something conecting them. like mountain tops in the fog.

waterzen.

playing with watercolours. i have this cool old book about the art of zen with watercolours. i'm no master but it sure was fun...watercolours just take alot of practice.

I had dreams of painting this morning so i decided to paint. been having wierd dreams lately...

2/07

February is strange. It makes me nauseous. There is usually a hint of spring and a blizzard to suffocate you. It's filled with love. And hate. It seems its really about suffering and pushing through the last of winters crying. March is more of a surrendering of coldness and a warming of the winds, but February's something else. I cant wait for the change. Ironicaly I seem happy in this picture. I suppose it's my photo-face (you know, the one we all put on for the camera no matter what we feel. Just so who ever looks at the picture years later thinks 'Oh, he seems so happy!').

self

self portait. although i look kinda feminine. i ususally dont draw people very well so i draw them in the distance; something i need to work on.

creative bubble number 1

got some new watercolours and paper. so here's a few dootles.


Reminds me of 'Monk by the Sea' by David Caspar Friedrich...


This one's an ispirations from my conversations with Sean about the super hero Vocabulous who's always at battle with the Dunces. The kid, Vincent, imagines the whole thing. Vocabulous defeats his enemies by confusing them with his large vocabulary. Yeh, this is what we think up at work...maybe Ill illustrate more of a series. This is just what I sketched while at the laundry mat. any suggestions?

envelope writting

snow drifts
through moonlight
over ice pond

wind swirls
and whistles
blowing through hair

small trail
leads yonder
under birch trees

fire pit
burns brightly
warming cold hands

a smile
turns brighter
knowing all's well.

requested items

a guy i work with requested i make some things. he might buy them. yay. say, you can buy things too. just ask. i made these this past week.


This came with a "Poem".
'The winter forest with gorgeous rocks eases the restless mind under the iron moon.' (a alteration of an older poem)



I made a third one in the post previous to this as well.

A walk in the woods.

A walk in the woods down the trail; it's nice to see the world for what it is as we go down the hill.

Ukiyo-e inspired

I really love images from "the floating world" (Ukiyo-e). great japanese wood block prints. anyways. i was inspired and tried to draw one in style. someday i'll start collecting prints. did you know you can buy them on ebay real cheap? (probably cheap fakes)

Summer. What a dream. Seems like so far away. As always I long for the light translucent green leaves to bud and flicker in the warm sun.























Bicycles. mmm, I love 'em. Drew this one for Pops (as he loves all things victorian).

just some rambles on art

Whispers in his ear
Asking why
There’s no voices inside.

Blankly staring at the wall he decides to pour a glass of whiskey. His belief that a gulp of that fine drink, rightfully called "the water of life" in Gaelic, would make his right side brain (the creative / intuitive / spiritual side) simply click ON, didn’t always happen.
An attempt to justify a life of laziness and absurd thoughts he calls himself an artist and makes marks in notebooks. Everyone knows the life of an artist is one of insanity. This does not mean that anyone classified as insane is a bonefide artist. Although some pompous asshole might question that stating that art is about conception. It’s about the thought process, it’s about the idea. The final image is but a detached image of the artist's vision. Imagine the thought process of a completely insane man. If we could visualize his thoughts that would be a work of art. Indeed it’s about seeing things differently from a different perspective.

A swig of whistey from that square-looking glass . He’s decided to start writing again. Like a journal, like a place to just write whatever comes to mind. Its fun, he always has these great thoughts that he never remembers. Sometimes he thinks he’s some kind of prodigy thinking about the sublimity of Caspar David Friedrich’s landscapes or about how most of what makes a good picture is just a lighting issue. The composition isn’t necessarily important to make a beautiful image. Once the lighting is thought of, the “blocks” of the composition must be laid. Filling up the classic rectangle in an exciting way (this can sound easy but really isn’t). Then lastly comes the actual image of whatever it is your painting (keep in mind certain images are connected to emotions and other references; consider this when you want to portray certain emotions).

The watercolor paper is still stacked away in a brown folder made of old grocery bags under the couch. If that paper were in front of his face he wouldn’t know what to draw, yet when that paper is in that brown folder he’s got a million ideas. Maybe it is just about the thoughts, he’ll never have to take out any paper at all and still make great masterpieces in his mind. And what good is the life of an artist if all he can do is think things up.

Craftsmanship must be worked on. Practicing drawings only to make more little scribbles of time wasting doodles doesn’t make much sense. Every work of art is a doodle. It’s a thought created and attempt to recreate it on paper. You cant practice that, you can only just do it. That’s all there is. You make some lines with a pen, however it turns out is all there is to it. It’s about that emission of creativity with the curiosity to find out what happens. What happens? Well, that’s just Art.

newer stuff

little sketches. mostly ink and watercolour pencils; the exception is the last one with the tree stump done with straight watercolours. havent use straight water colours in years...

Henri Matisse

Here's a little sketch of a matisse painting. I liked this one so i re-drew it.

IF - Wind

Illustration Friday: Wind

here y'all go -

hum

grumbling rumbling mind, empty void of pitiness, pettiness cleverness. actions for satisfaction, dissatifying matter of fact. seeking knowledge of perfection effective affection. still there's less time passing outside my mind than within. dreams are the means. give me a booster to wake up with the rooster. the tea i sip is the good drink from the platter given to me by the mad hatter. the fact is it just dosnt matter. a child's thoughts are more than mild draughts intoxicating the mind. they are te truth unhithered by the constraints of adulthood. i am meakly seeking a sip of tea.

Strange old ramble in the night

I believe in a spiritual world. A world in which every transition or metamorphosis is the act of something greater than ourselves. The flow of water, the growth of a flower and the death of a moth are natural transitions of which we all know. How can we explain or begin to make sense of these things without looking to a god, a spirit, a magical force? Science and rational thought explain things in complex codes, but there’s so much mystery to it all. Birth, death and the passing of time are all we can be sure of in life and yet we hardly come to grips with it, rarely do we understand its nature.
It seems there is more to life, death and time than we know of. Who’s to say all the faerie tales and ancient myths we were told as kids aren’t true? There is a magic in life that we could know if only we open our eyes wide enough to see. The sublime of nature is in every aspect of nature. I found these fragmented memories from a lost age in which the world was spiritual and magical. These books hold decrees of a sort that may help in guiding you to an understanding of the world; a different perspective of understanding.

-the "books" were part of my senior project (which can be viewed via the link to my photographs).

This is pretty much my stance on things. I love faerie tales and myths. Life is pretty boring, but with some imagination it becomes a vibrant world filled with a magick we always thought existed.

I just thought I'd post this for shits and giggles.
Here's today's random pic.

memories and a poem.

today at work i was flooded with an old memory of when i went to italy as a boy. i went with the art club in highschool. along with our school was another school from maine that shared our tour bus. i became good friends with one of the guys from maine. we were complete goofballs. he paid me 5 euro to fall down the marble stairs at the sistine chapple; of course i did it with a great big smile! one night we all went out to the gilotti shoppe (very delicious btw). Afterwards the two of us began dancing. at first we were just fooling around until a couple started to video tape us. after a moment or two a group began to form; we had a crowd. So, being totally spontaneous the two of us did about a 15 min "abstract" dance proformance. basically just jumping around, climbing walls cartwheels randomness. apparently people really enjoyed it. thats the memory i had today. it made me so glad to remember that. lately i've been thinking alot about my childhood...yep.

i wrote this poem with magnetic poetry on my frige:

Aching Vision

And I sit
Rusting
No sleep with
A thousand
Roads
Show me
A winter forest
With gorgeous rocks
Under the iron moon.


PS- here is a random picture-

B.O.

This is about B. O. It's true, not the body odor but the colours black and orange. Black and Orange, Orange and Black.

seasons.

Here is Fall and Winter. Comming later: Spring and Summer.