I downloaded three apps and spent an hour of my creative time this morning trying to blur out the writing on the page next to my journal drawing of my new uke. Finally, in frustration, I cut up a nearby junk mail envelope and used it to mask the writing. Score one for analog? I doubt it.
Here is a photo of the actual ukulele. Also, an “I Give Up” to the temptation of a nice instrument. (I am surrounded by enabling influences!) I sold my Fluke months ago, so the money from that went into this. I love the slightly funky sound.
This is not to be misconstrued as any claim to proficiency on said instrument. I’m working on it, okay?
Anyway, I think the drawing conveys more of my feelings about the new uke than the photograph.
In which she realizes she can use a colored pencil to shade a ehite object.
I love pitchers. I have more than makes sense. I use the larger ones as vases. I have several shapes of white porcelain creamers, including this souvenir of my walk through Rome. It was €1.95. How could I leave it in Italy?
I also purchased a little black notebook during our visit to the Keats-Shelley House in Rome. The lettering is actually white.
I carry a little notebook with me most of the time. It’s great for shopping lists, measurements, addresses of places I need to go (though these are migrating to my smart phone), and flashes of brilliance. (ha!)
Right now I’m using a little notebook with Apocalyst embossed on the cover. It was a crew gift from the kind of sweet show No Tomorrow that I worked on. (It’s streamable on Netflix right now).
I don’t really need another mug, but we had a nice chat with the owner of Recordis Barcelona and I liked this image a lot. Recordis Barcelona is a fine gift shop with locally sourced wares. The owner would rather sell books and antiques. He said he turns on the music in his shop when he comes in, and when it stops 8 hours later he closes up.
I went back another evening, because the shop was just around the corner from our hotel, to tell him about Ex Libris Anonymous because I figured he’d be charmed by the idea of making sketchbooks from old books. He gave me a vintage Spanish postage stamp.
“It’s only from the 50s or so,” he said when I was thrilled with it.
It gained a crease during the next week of travel, but now I’m going to mount it in my journal using photo splits.
Yeah, when I visited the Keats-Shelley Memorial House in Rome I bought a tee shirt imprinted with this quote from “Ode to a Nightingale” by John Keats. What would he think, I wonder, of us traipsing around in our underwear?
Big John Keats fan as a teen. I transcribed the opening lines of one of his poems onto butcher paper and hung them on my bedroom wall.
“… I have fears that I may cease to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-piled books in charact’ry, Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain…”
Ah tragic youth! There was also a quote from a play about Joan of Arc. Ego much?
#1 in a series of drawings I’m making of the souvenirs I brought home from Europe. The olives we had in Barcelona had such a delicate, deep flavor…not too briny. We especially love the anchovy stuffed olives.
I know, it sounds weird, but trust me, they’re amazing. We’ve been putting off opening these, but their time will soon come!
The chocolate is almost gone. Luckily, it was another of the first things I drew. The hazelnut creme eggs from Barcelona were the BEST.
It’s a very small sketchbook, about 4″x6″ to fit in a camera bag or purse.
You don’t have to like this.
Call it the Dali effect? Now at the top of my lottery-winning list: buy a little property in the desert where I could construct stuff, deconstruct stuff, re-construct stuff and paint on everything without fear of reprisal.
I wanted to try playing with mixed media using a found photograph after reading Freehand by Helen Birch. This is gouache, marker, pen and photo. Found this image of Christopher Walken in a recent AARP Magazine and as soon as I started cutting it out I could see the basic design in my head. Added a few details after the first burst.
I read a couple of books about artists’ journals that kind of intimidated me. Hopefully in recovery now.