Secrets, 20.5cm x 25.5cm, 8"x10", India inks, archival pen inks, graphite, coffee spill, uploaded January 11, 2011 - a doodle, though I did make a stop and start voice recording as I was writing the words (you can hear the pen scratching on paper in some of it). I'll see about hosting the recording somewhere, and transcribing it I guess. I don't think this piece is finished yet, though maybe it is.
If you click on the drawing, it'll open to a larger size in a new window. It's later, and I've made an .mp3. You can listen. The words are in the drawing, all of them and I'm reading them to you via a 'voice memo' on my iPhone as I'm writing them.
Raw drawing; raw recording. No performance or finesse here. I had to try this once, and once is enough truly.
Not sure how listenable... recorded while composing the writing in the drawing, and you can hear the pen scratching, me flipping pages to look for written images, and the slowness. Voice following the fingers. Reading what's being written, rather than composing out loud. Unable to post as is, the flat voice, so I had to. Bamboo Music, a background.
A sketch inked an hour ago while sitting on my bed (gingerly gripping the open ink bottle - oh those white sheets). I wanted the feather to be his spine because he is shaman of the feather. The dancing will is determination. When finished he likely won't look like this, though this is the backbone. Shaman of the Feather, 11"x15", 27.9x38.1cm, Strathmore cold press Watercolor. Click on image to view larger size.
In this drawing I am trying to find something lost. A perception; a route; a way of understanding. From my book of doodle drawings, where I allow myself more freedom, less restraint. A poesis drawing - word painting.
DaphneDragonSeaWoman, 2009, 8"x11", 21.5cmx28cm, India ink on archival paper. Finished painting here. Click on image for larger size.
What is written down the side:
...
In the myth of the Daphne
with the dragon
seed pod and the
pelts in the
water of the
women swimming
tangle of lace
of trees, fur over
bone, sky of Seine,
jungle of painted
wood carved
into the new Aceh, gleaming
city washed by the
tsunami. Do dragon seeds
give
birth to
dragons
or to
dreams?
...
woman who is
the mast who is the
boat who is the trees
around whom the sky
...
There is a closet in the corner of my living room that has a full bookcase in front of most of it. That bookcase has to be emptied, felt strips attached to the bottom along with appliance wheels if they work, the closet has to be emptied, re-organized, bags of clothes collected for the Diabetes association (which will pick up since I don't have a car), and I've left it long enough for the pile to only grow. Today I determined to tackle 'the corner closet.' Only what I really wanted to do was draw.
Above is my simple morning sketch. Having thrown a tidbit to the wildcreativewoman in me (lol:)), now I shall deal with that corner.
A sketch, in ink - I know, seriously, I'm too lazy to use pencil first. She's not 'pretty' but older I'd say. Once I colour and do whatever she won't look like this so I thought I'd share an early moment.
I didn't finish the patterns of her kimono on all the fabric. The rising from the earth, the rockface I mentioned in my last post, that sense of the Canadian Shield, the Precambrian rock, this is what I wanted to convey. Leaving some of the fabric without pattern seemed to emphasize this quality in the overall shape of the composition. I mean, along with the grace and delicacy of an important spiritual and social ritual - the tea ceremony.