Robins

A cut out technique.

See no hate

Back after a long absence. Thinking of this new style of illustration on the computer. Quick n' easy.

Cuz I Been Lazy Lately

Freedom: Just Some People Talking

This was inspired by lyrics to the Johnny Cash song, "Desperado": "And freedom, oh freedom. Well that's just some people talking." When he sings that in his warbling, gravelly voice, Cash seems to me to be slaving away at the heart of humanity, attempting to uncover some nugget of truth. He seems to me to sing reluctantly, every note drawn forth with great pain from his soul. I gather from this that he knew what he was talking about. Nothing good ever comes easy, right?

So, freedom? Do we really want freedom? It's pretty clear that children and teens need rules, structure, actions and consequences. I doubt this changes much for adults. We like to pretend that freedom is something we want, probably a direct result of getting older and gaining independence. But why then do we try so hard to make plans? Why do we seek a solid future and make goals stepping so neatly towards them? Are we really, as Cash said, a bunch of Desperados? Do we deceive ourselves that we live unfettered, picking from amongst unlimited choices? Is this an illusion necessitated by our forced entry into adulthood? Don't we really yearn for meaning amid the chaos of choice? I think this is why we have horoscopes, fortune cookies, signs, and omens: our very last grasp at an omnipotent authority. "Well," we have the comfort of saying, "It was meant to be." Fate? Destiny? Freedom. Yup, just some people talking.

Well. here is my idea for my summer mailer: "Heat Wave." Computer-generated. These three people are not smiling. As a side note, I would like to take issue with people who do not smile. Why not? I know many people who do not smile, ever, and name them as amongst my friends. In fact, I am drawn to people who do not smile. It's a confidence thing. Not smiling says, "I have power over you, I don't give a crap what you think about me, and I don't need to please you in any way under the sun." But I smile all the time, even (and especially) at strangers. Is it a meekness thing? Why do I want to appear friendly to every one I encounter? Harmless. Perhaps I aim to please the gods. If I smile enough at strangers, surely this will in turn tempt the gods to favour me. I am nice, therefore please respond in kind. Or do the powers-that-be bestow grace upon those who fight for their right? And not just to party, but to subjugate all those around them.

Well, thank-you for your patience with my self-cross-examination. As always, I remain your forever cyberspace friend.

p.s. added a more finished version above

It's Cryin' Time Again

JK Rowling got her inspiration from somewhere. Some people speak of muses- you know, those divine sprits that gave inspiration to the artist. The Greeks many years ago started out with only three but I guess competition for their favours grew, and they discovered a whole bunch more. What I don't understand, is that there doesn't seem to be one for the visual arts. Sure, comedy, tragedy, poetry, song, dance and memory all have their guardians. But what about painting, carving, sculpting? Were these considered lesser arts? Were they too much of the worldly sphere? So here I am, a so-called visual artist, without a muse, drawing JK Rowling, who could pick from amongst Clio, Mneme, and Polymnia, among others. No fair! Except I do have one, I am certain. And I don't want to piss her or him off, so I have to not criticize. My muse lately has been encouraging me to do work on the computer, so here you see a digital piece. If it sucks, blame my muse. Just kidding. I love you, muse. Don't leave me! As you can see, it's a tense relationship. As soon as I get a bit angry or frustrated, my muse is out the door. Sometimes he skips town entirely and doesn't come back for weeks. He doesn't even tell me where he goes, but comes back with a tan and smells of the sea, and I get the feeling he's been cheating. When Ray Charles says "Oh, it's cryin' time again, you're gonna leave me. I can see that far away look in your eyes," I'm pretty sure he was talking about his muse. I understand totally. They make us cry. But we always take them back.

Sorry for the long delay, cyberspace buddies. Internet outage. Here is the next piece for the salt fairy tale. I've jumped ahead a bit, as you can probably guess. What happens is the King chucks his youngest daughter out of the castle, and she becomes a maid, only to attend a ball where she meets and falls in love with a handsome prince. Yes, aligned stars and deserved fate at its finest. But I ask, does this ever really happen in real life? Probably not, that's why it's a fairy tale. And if it ever did happen in real life, we would never, ever recognize it for what it was. There's too much crap that happens in between. Say, an abused child escapes her family home and later finds true love. In what way are those two events connected? But these fairy tales say that it is so. And why is everyone so ready to forgive? And yet at other times there is no mercy or compassion shown to the old, ugly or infirm.

Any how, this piece shows the first dance between the prince and princess. I've used a handsome friend of mine as a model for the prince's face, which makes me laugh, because he would probably never have that expression on his face. But I enjoy basing the characters I draw on people in real life; it gives an extra dimension to the piece when I am creating it.