Men are Angry. Women are Tired.

Men are angry. Women are tired. That's what happens when you are new to the fight. The rookies are all peppy and gearing to get into battle. The veterans are giving everyone a side-eye while debating the pros and cons of getting out of bed. Men are upset that they are now asked to change their lives a little for the first time, women are just adding it to the list.

Wonderless

Monk: I had hope. Isn't hope the worst?

Natalie: Isn't hope a good thing?

Monk: ... you're very young.

       - Monk TV series

Maybe We're Not Made of Star Stuff

I haven't created a single piece of art in nearly a year, and only a few in the months prior. There's been no motivation, no care, no point in making anything. Of course I am still disciplined so I've forced myself to focus and make the attempt, but it is clear that either my health conditions have rendered me inoperable or my situation has eliminated all desire.

There is no want to create beautiful things. The world is ugly. People are ugly. Why bring beauty into an ugly existence? What a cruel thing to do. Cruel to the beautiful to bring it into an ugly world. Cruel to the rest of us to confront the glaring reality that other things could have been beautiful. Instead we may be in the darkest, ugliest timeline.

Basic is Beautiful

My dominant art style in high school was simple but factually accurate. I hesitate to describe it as "cartooning" even though it may be true, but they were more like illustrations. I didn't draw them as caricatures with exaggerated features or with vague suggestions of shape and color.

I'm... drawn... (sigh)... to using basic outlines for every type of non-abstract art that I do. Perhaps I think in templates, where I start with the real shape but fill it in differently. I could have used the same outlines to draw incredibly realistic figures (maybe I should do that now as a test). However at the time I just wanted it all to be basic.

And look at me, not using "basic" as an insult. Learn this well, folks. Not everything is an opportunity to tear ourselves or others down. Basic can be delightful. Especially when you're drawn past your limit (okay I'll stop!).

Autopilot Engaged

It has been difficult to post. I have needed to retreat a bit into my own head recently. It's not necessarily unhealthy, when it's the best action (or inaction) for you at that time. No Little Black Heart, no sleep, no money, intense chronic pain and a brain injury make me a defeated woman.

Friends have been around, getting me out of the house, making me laugh, and generally making me feel like they like me around. So while I've been too down to post- particularly deep thoughts- but I have not been so down that I don't understand that there is life out there when I am able to handle it.

Fire Planet

I painted this around the time of the 2017 Presidential Inauguration. There is a... slight chance... you may detect some fury. Though it is more accurately based on what I felt was upon us- a firestorm. Fascism, climate change, oppression- everything we are seeing now just two years later. It wasn't just that it seemed it all was coming, it was there already and we had missed our last chance to divert it. Many couldn't be bothered to try to stop it, and others felt destruction was the same as prosperity. Furthermore, a lot of people welcomed the storm- and continue to do so.

Fracture Birds

Most of my Fracture Art is random. Totallly non-purposeful and the subjects are chosen after-the-fact, pulled from first impression from my subconscious. However every once in a while I will make a piece with intent. This one with black birds one is somewhere in-between those ideas.

The Abyss Stared Back

Fracture art can be very fun, but after a while can also be VERY frustrating. Especially if you really want to have a certain subject and just can't seem to manage it. Or you haven't found anything particularly interesting lately. This counteracts the peaceful stress-relief that comes from making the art in the first place.

On top of that, it can get painfully repetitive. So I was looking at new ways to stretch the method. That is what you should do with art anyway. Create, consider, create more. 

Fracture Bunneh

I mentioned the Fracture Bunny that I "saw" in one of my Fracture Art pieces in my last post, so I HAD to write about it right away. Not that I believe anyone is suffering from cliffhangers- though it would be really rad if there were fans who cared that much- but because I don't want to mention something and then forget about it. Brain injuries are jerks like that. I adored this piece enough that I did not want to forget.

Fracture Art

Sharing these two pieces gives me a fair amount of anxiety. And not because I'm using a 20 year old flash photograph that doesn't do them justice. It makes me nervous because this is an art style that I invented* around ~1999. I taught it to several of my classmates and one of my professors. Aside from some pretty excellent security framework in my professional life, this art style is the only movement I have ever created that actually took on some life of its own. I realized how different it was when it took actual time to teach the process, and not everyone was able to perform it. It is a part of me more than I could ever describe. When I am drawing the fractures it is calming and somehow makes my brain feel more centered.

What does NOT contribute to the anxiety is the fact that I created this form only a few years after being told I didn't have my own style. At the time I probably worried what people would say about these Fracture pieces. Now, I own it. I love this, it is mine, and it is awesome. Suck it, haters.

Pop! Goes the Damsel

It is so bizarre seeing art about my stress when my life wasn't as stressful as it is now. It is like standing on the other side of the looking glass.

Something-something resilience, I guess.

Discomforting

I am always looking for new types of art projects to attempt- at least once. My brain loves to see the different types of things it can create. It can be a very freeing feeling to be creative in a different vein. Who knows, maybe I'll find something I enjoy or are good at doing. Plus, there are aspects to pull here and there to bring back to my regular art.

A friend of mine held a winter postcard-making event. I had been curious for a while about collages, and other than a couple of pieces like my Rebel Resist art (there are three levels of paper in that piece), hadn't really tried much. So an opportunity to try something new with an experienced teacher was ACES! Especially since I wasn't having a lot of opportunity to get out of the house, and this was a social activity with very little anxiety. There would be people around, but not a lot of expectation to interact. Perfect!

Winnie the Poopy

I never liked Winnie the Pooh. Actually I think I can safely say that it utterly disgusted me from the first time I was shown it as a child. I found it boring, vapid, pointless and as a girl it made absolutely no attempt to include me. I'm not saying I wanted pink or frilly things, I would NEVER have implied such a thing, but I actually had to search the internet to find a female in the show (spoiler: there is only ONE). Even as a youngling, I knew when I wasn't wanted.

I am not saying I had any trouble identifying with male characters- I mean it wasn't like I had a lot of options. I liked superheroes, so I watched a lot of token female characters surrounded by herds of men. But the shows had to have some redeeming value, like being intelligent or fun. Instead Winnie the Pooh went even further in the dumps, when the only token woman was there to be a mother. Well, barf.

Bricks are Heavy

We were let loose around campus to paint whatever structures that we wanted for the day. I just wanted to paint bricks on the side of a monument. I think my art professor felt I was taking the easy way out. A campus full of beautiful architecture and I was painting bricks.

Tardar Saucy

This is another quick drawing. In the summer of  2018 I had been asking friends for subjects to paint. I tried to paint each one, but to spend no more than five minutes per drawing. I also used ink, which is not changeable or erasable. This way I wouldn't obsess or get stuck in the details. I think this one was only about two minutes, partially due to size (it is only three inches squared) but also I am so accustomed to drawing cats that I can go pretty fast. I didn't do the best job with accuracy as I was slinging ink, but I actually love it. So grumpy!

Walk Softly and Carry a Big Brush

A friend of mine has been working his way through the Bob Ross library of instructional show, "The Joy of Painting." In the summer of 2018, he held a Bob Ross painting party where we all made our own painting with the same idea of a scene. In other words, we all were to put a hill on the front left with one tree, a lake, a little island in the right-hand area of the lake, with mountains in the background, etc. If you squinted, everyone's would look basically the same.

Moments of Peace

I was hunting ducks or geese sometime around the turn of the century (can we make those jokes again? Because I'm making those jokes again). I remember looking up into the treetops and birds flying over  us. We were fairly close to their landing zone so they weren't in their formations. I could feel the breeze, the sun was nice and warm but the air was cold. I sat on the hill for a set of train tracks and just watched. It was... nice.

I haven't felt peace often in my life. The hit of growing up in violence and living in a dysfunctional family made my brain used to stress, anxiety and constant Flee, Fight or Flight reflex. Even when things are going relatively well, I need to find a way to channel that energy. It makes me hyperactive and a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Copycat

One of the biggest criticisms about my art I've received over the years is that I don't have my own style. The most extreme and mean-spirited was in high school (naturally). Even back then, I was able to replicate most paintings or art that I saw. So I did. I drew anime (e.g. Japanese cartoons), reproduced famous paintings and works of art, and pretty much had fun with the challenge. I don't remember ever being complimented. I just remember being called a fraud and a copycat. I never tried passing my work off as the originals, but people sneered and called me talentless.

Through the Breaking Glass

About twenty years ago, one of my art professors had us do this exercise. The basic idea was to use a mirror to paint a self-portrait. The twist was that the mirror itself was to be the main focus of the painting, and we were to include the background in both the inside and outside of the mirror.

You Do You

My first painted self-portrait, about 20 years ago. I was so proud of how I captured myself. The eyes are spot-on. The lips are exactly right. I even got my nose (at the time... it's been broken several times since) and I've always struggled with noses. I couldn't even make them look like noses, let alone the exact nose. And I nailed it. I carefully noted where the sections in my face place shadows, and did a damned fine job with my punky hair.