Naïve enough, but still. Here are the Owls again, finished (and available as a Poster). The whole work:
Drawing with light digital strokes on dark, sort of etching in light, gives the dreamy little piece a kind of shimmer:
Let's have a look at the heights, or towers, or whatever they are. There's a bit of everything in them. The usual rules apply: If I know what those things are, I won't tell you. If I don't know, I will. Reality has a tendency to catch up with art; I get to understand what I paint much later.
By then, I hope that the owls had a safe landing after all.
A little musica ad hoc, all instruments real and imaginary played by me (albeit not in the same time really) -- piano, three ukuleles, one acoustic and one electric guitar; synthetic, next to toxic strings and lastly pan flutes sampled from a tone played by a craftsman/vendor in the Andes; the original sound was very authentic -- and also very false. Voilà.
I am particularly happy that I got both joy and sadness into it, perfectly and irrevocably entangled; i.e. Life. Perhaps one might call it Broken Music; like Ragtime (q.v.) but with the raggedness and the grit and the grain not merely restricted to the tempo but to the execution in general -- thus lifelike.
I think that it is the fine and macabre art of Ms. Valeria that inspired me to the somewhat Aztec skull. The rest is made a little rough, as the movie in general. I had to get done in time. Six instruments and one illustrator -- but I am only one... Only being one hampers me.
A little sketch drawn this Friday, from a concert where Science married Music, featuring the gentlemen of Tona Serenad as DJ:s and Ms. Thi-Lot on the... now let's see -- Laboratory Harmonium? Chemistry Organ? That is, she had boiling retorts and laboratory thingamajigs and other noisy toys, and with merry and very musical disregard for their actual sounds she sampled and filtered them around into some weird kind of beauty... The result was no less strange as many of the noises were engaged in intriguing chemical reactions even before they were turned inside out. This singing lab was served with aforesaid vinyl on the side, harmonies from the fairest reaches of Outsider music. An interesting evening!
Sketching like this is utterly important. It's not merely restlessness. It keeps the hand a-going, it shows that the cogwheels are still spinning all right inside the artist, despite all evidence on the contrary. It is said that old Monet's hands trembled every morning -- of fear. What if this is the hour when I can't paint anymore? Will this be the day when I lost my main excuse to exist? -- No laughing matter. My oil painting lay low until recently as Life was standing on its head, Thi-Lottied inside out, and it was a blessing that I could still draw, paper or Photoshop didn't quite matter. My hands didn't have to tremble.
Nevertheless, it was a good day when I forced my way back to the oil tubes again. A small but important slice of my Soul was found lurking inside that half-dried Cinnober Red; I have yet to find the tubes where Hope and Self-Esteem may dwell. Perhaps in that old Emerald Green...?
Above, recent microscopical blossoming in oil, quite resized, and below the relieved artist -- digital.
The Painter, whose life has been Far Too Interesting as of late has the feeling of, as the Swedish saying goes, "living in a trunk". Something semi-nomadic, something like this:
(With heartfelt thanks to old friend Marie who dared me to capture this feeling.)
One is concentrating on things that can be done on the fly, less bound by a fixed address; giving private lessons et al. (I am currently pestering Stockholm with this modest little flyer.)
The bird would be a common blackbird but blue looks better in water pigments. So this is my bluebird...
And perhaps it lives here:
Hoot-toot-toot: Owls are falling freely through the void without any fixed point in life; hooting, tooting, flapping wildly all the way down --- Where's the ground? And which way is Down, on the whole? Too dark! But they are only sketches so far, and can't know what kind of painting it'll be yet or how to react to it. Nor do I.
They are drawn with light strokes on a dark background, not the customary other way round. That's fun for a change: When you're falling through darkness, you must try to have a little fun.
And this is this is a large bird with thick glasses, a small detail from the children's book that everyone wanted me to draw/write until I said All Right Then, I Give In. I'm far from done yet (not to mention far from published) so this is what you get for now. Give the bird a cracker. Be sure to hold it up closely.
Finally, a little birdsong from the painter himself. Warning: Those overly addicted to strict Western rhythms might find this a little revolting. I add a few beats here and there, without really caring. This bird did have a cold too, albeit the music would be in a fair state anyway...
Lyrics (c) J. Ceder 2014:
May I work with something
that I know how to do?
May I love and be happy
and how about you?
Will we have shoes
will we make ends meet?
It's all decided...
On Wall Street
[Whistle and piano...]
Do I own my home?
Or... the bank?
Will I get hit by
some economic prank?
Will I wear shoes?
...have anything to eat?
It's all decided...
on Wall Street
:)
(I'm still working on the owls. Here they are about to get some lustre and shine to their feathers -- the eyes should glow better too, and with some luck they'll see where they're flying then. But that's more than I know.)
