Charcoal on paper.
I have been reigniting my creative soul. The inner child and the muse all whisper in my ear.
“Follow your dream. It is never too late.” I am a stereotype at times. Being the troubled artist, the lost creative soul, the emotional Pisces, all searching for something.
Wow did I just ever have a weird experience. I was watching Doctor Who on Netflix just now. To make a long story short this particular episode just unlocked some crazy shit in my head. Well I was in tears for the last 10 minutes of the show. It was a broad mix of joy, sadness and a few others I don’t even really understand. I have cried at all kinds of things, even a Super Bowl commercial for god’s sake. But this was different. Something touched me very, very deeply. I think it pretty much took me by surprise because I was also crying at something deep inside myself. My child. My inner child. The creative soul of my life and probably the only thing that has kept me alive on this planet. Music, art, and the sea are three of the most important things in my life. They are my dreams and my reality.
Somehow the way this episode was written, the actor ( Tony Curran ) who played Vincent van Goh, and my love of this particular artist’s work just clicked into place. Keys that unlocked a slue of emotions and tears. It was all very unsettling and yet it wasn’t. I felt very deeply for the Vincent, his life and his struggle. He loved art so much. He saw things in ways nobody had seen them before. He was ridiculed and made fun of during his own lifetime. His art never being worth as much as a trade for a drink in a local tavern. Until long after his death. I felt for him. There was a scene in this episode where the Doctor took Vincent to the 21 century to a gallery displaying the best of his work. The Doctor gave Vincent something he would never know in his own time. Respect and a moment of peace and happiness in his own mind that he was in fact one of the greatest painters in the history of mankind.
And as sad as it is history cannot be changed. Shortly after the Doctor returns Vincent to his own time, he committed suicide.
A moment of peace in a lifetime of struggle. Yeah I can relate to that.
Below is an excerpt from Wikipedia written about this very episode. I have copied it word for word in hopes it might make sense to you and give you a little insight into what I saw. Sorry I cannot help you to understand what I felt. I’m not completely sure of it myself.
“Vincent and the Doctor” is the 10th episode in the fifth series of British science fiction television series Doctor Who.
The Doctor has taken Amy to the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, where they admire the work of the post-impressionist painter Vincent van Gogh. The Doctor discovers a seemingly alien figure in a window of the painting The Church at Auvers, and decides they must travel back in time to speak to Vincent. In 1890, they find Vincent at a cafe in Arles, a lonely man with a bad reputation, but he opens up when he notices Amy, sensing a loss she herself is not aware of. They discover that recent murders, the victims ravaged by some type of beast, have been blamed on Vincent, and the two resolve to help him.
At Vincent’s home that evening, the artist confesses that his works have little value to anyone else, but he believes the universe is filled with wonders that he must paint. Amy is attacked by an invisible beast that Vincent is able to see and sketch for the Doctor, who identifies it as a Krafayis, a vicious pack-predator likely abandoned on Earth. Knowing the beast will appear when Vincent paints the nearby church the next evening, the Doctor and Amy plan to join him, after which they will leave. Vincent becomes distraught at this news and shuts himself in his bedroom, saying that everyone leaves him in the end. The Doctor and Amy set out to capture the beast, but Vincent soon joins them, eager to help. He confides to Amy that if she can “soldier on, then so can Vincent van Gogh”.
Vincent begins painting the church and soon spots the beast inside. The Doctor demands that Amy stay back as he enters the church alone, but she and Vincent both agree they should help the Doctor. Vincent is able to save the Doctor and Amy, describing the beast’s actions as they hide in the confessionals; the Doctor soon realises from Vincent’s description that the beast is blind, the likely reason it was abandoned. The beast is impaled on Vincent’s easel when it tries to lunge at the artist. The Doctor attempts to soothe the dying creature while Vincent empathises with its pain. After the creature dies, the three return outside the church, and Vincent describes the night sky as he envisions it, deep blue, framed by swirling air.
The next day, the Doctor and Amy prepare to leave. Vincent asks Amy to return and marry him should she leave the Doctor. As Vincent turns to leave, the Doctor offers to show him something. The Doctor and Amy take Vincent in the TARDIS to the present and the van Gogh exhibit at the Musée d’Orsay. Vincent is stunned at the display, and becomes emotionally overwhelmed when he overhears Mr. Black, an art curator, say that van Gogh was “the greatest painter of them all” and “one of the greatest men who ever lived”. They return Vincent to the past, and say their final goodbyes. When Vincent renews his proposal to Amy, she tells him she really “isn’t the marrying kind”. As the Doctor and Amy return to the present, Amy hopes that there will be several more paintings by Vincent waiting for them, but instead learn that Vincent still committed suicide at the age of 37 years. The Doctor explains that life is a mixture of bad and good, and while their brief encounter with Vincent couldn’t undo everything wrong, they added some good to his life. The evidence is in Vincent’s displayed works: the face no longer appears in The Church, and now Vase with 12 Sunflowers bears the inscription, “For Amy”.
A Moment of Peace
My religion: Art
My scripture: Poetry
My gospel: the Wind
My dreams: Lucid
My love: Passionate
My life: My own
“Dreams are illustrations…
from the book your soul is writing about you.”
A girlfriend of mine on Twitter just had this tattooed on her arm. How fitting. How Perfect. How simply beautiful. The meaning itself goes so much deeper than the ink in her skin. I know little of her personally but this simple quote speaks volumes about who she it. The moment she posted it I saw doors opening and closing in my mind. Memories, thoughts and ideas of who I am pouring across the milliseconds of time it took to grasp it’s depth of meaning to me.
It describes me, my life and all that I am in every minuted detail in only 12 words.
How is that possible? How can something so simple and meaningless to some have such epic meaning in my reality? I guess to know that you have to know something about me. But then now you do. Now you know everything about me. I have no more secrets, no riddles or questions hidden away to be pried from my dead fingers when that day comes. To understand you must appreciate the art of my life.
My life is a dream. My life has been filled with dreams in dark, unfocused gray on black, in crystal clear technicolor with symphonic sound and lucid hyper reality upon wings of my own design. My book is filled with all these beautiful, tragic and loving illustrations. I sometimes transpose these dreams into my own reality, my art, my music, my life.
My life is a work of art. I am that illustration, unfinished and ever evolving. Styles changing and morphing from one to another. My “Blue Period”, my Renaissance, Classical and Modern period all unfolding with each breath. Simply to be the charcoal upon the paper or am I the canvas upon which it is laid?
Dreams are illustrations. And my soul is a master of fine art.
Portrait of Robin. Pencil on paper. A very beautiful young woman I have had the pleasure to meet. The interesting thing about this pic aside from the subject is what happened when I went in to clean up the photograph made from my phone. Notice the subtle colors and texture of the paper. Serendipitous Photoshopage to be sure.
This is my third “serious” drawing in a month. I have always been drawn to faces. Woman’s faces to be honest. There was always a reason for that. I usually end up drawing women I find amazingly beautiful and of course girl crushes. The magical essence of a women has captivated me my entire life. SO I draw what I like and love.
What better form of self expression than to draw your dreams. In art school I took a couple years of figure drawing. The body is easy. Hands and feet are always hard to capture without mangling the perception. Faces are in fact the hardest thing to draw. And yes I am going to tell you why.
Our brains are essentially very powerful facial recognition systems. When it comes to subtle, yet significant details no computer can match what the human brain can see in the human face. Our face is the most significant part of our identity between Homo Sapiens. Expressions change in very subtle to very dramatic ways. My computer (brain) is tuned to picking out the softer curves and subtle beauty in women. To this day I am never fully satisfied with what I have drawn. I can immediately see the mistakes when the subject or a picture is available to do a comparison.
Eyes too high or too low in the skull. Lips to hard edged. Nose wrong shape. The list of FAIL goes on. But what is more important is that it is not necessarily the intent to make a perfect copy of the subject. So yes her eyes may be a 32nth of an inch to far apart. Our brains will see this almost immediately if we are familiar with the subject. The work of art is flawed in the very first stroke of the pencil.
Or is it?
As an artist my intent is to capture the beauty of the person or subject. While some artists pride themselves on their amazing technical ability to capture a near photographic duplication of their subject. Realists. I am more than happy to make subtle and often accidental changes. This is interpretation. Sometimes it pays to enhance a feature. I love the eyes so I always make them bigger than reality.
When I complete a drawing to my own satisfaction I have put to paper my own vision of the world passed through my eyes, post processed by my brain and executed by my own hands. Every point of interaction is a point of failure or a point of immeasurable success in creating a work of art that is uniquely mine and mine alone.
I love this artist’s simple yet elegant watercolors.
She is painting one a day and selling them on Etsy for a very reasonable price. Basically she is using a simple production technique to generate revenue. How do I know that. Because I an going to buy a series or them for my bedroom. 😉
I started drawing again a couple weeks ago after about a 15 year hiatus from drawing. Yeah a few stupid sketches here and there but not really trying. I spent 7 years in Art School that my daddy paid for. Why 7 years? Well to be totally honest my daddy paid for me to get really high for about 4.5 of those years and I was in a 5 year design program. I switched majors to ceramics which I adore in the 5th year. I had had enough of my asshole design teachers. they did not like me and I did not like them either. One of them I did anyway.
So yes I have told dad I was a stoner. I am not proud of it. I don’t regret ever trying drugs. Everyone should get really stoned at least once in their life. I do regret how I wasted so much of my dads hard earned money on pot and an extra 2 years in school. And I do regret not sticking with my art for so long. I had been previously distracted by life’s little curve balls. Well a big one but we will leave it at that.
So back to my art. I was a graphic design and advertising geek. I think I have mentioned that before. I realized a couple years after graduating how much I hated advertising. I got out of are pretty much all together not long after that.
Now I find myself longing to re-ignite the fire that kept me going for so long. Art. I love drawing portraits. I am fascinated by faces. Especially women. I am never going to quit my art again. I love to draw, write and play my guitars. I just need to find a way to make a living at it.
In critique: This is not a stellar drawing. It’s practice. I draw my friends from pictures. The picture was at an angle to start with but still her nose is too long. Cheeks a little to big and her mouth is off. In reality Kim is a beautiful woman I adore. I have never actually met her in real life. I really hope I do some day. She has a heart of gold. I find her striking. Long shiny dark hair and beautiful eyes to match her positive attitude.
Kim if you ever read this I promise I will do better next time.