August 28, 2016

Sad Apple Tree

A little ink-and-aqua from a garden with an apple tree. It is somewhat sad, despite being a fine specimen of Transparent blanche.

The proper yellowish green, typical for this variety, was gained through light underpainting with indigo blue, later followed by lemon yellow on top.

Up close; the ladybug was on the chair that I intended to sit on when I started, so I let it have its time and a good place in the work. Spots of red was precisely what it needed, save but for the red tear. It adds balance to the composition, not happiness. Perhaps you can't have both.

August 21, 2016

Second Hand Love, Finished w. Colours

It does look better with colours. At first I felt that the petals should be some lilac-tannish, but thought the better of it. No -- we put those hues around instead. The same with the hands: I had every impossible Not A Hand Hue underpainted before adding skin and rosiness. And then I made care not to overwork but to finish before I was done... appealing isn't the aquarelle to a surrealist then! You paint by not painting. You add the wrong colours to build up the right feeling. And you finish by not finishing. A Taoist might find this pleasing too; a Nothing that creates Everything.

August 14, 2016

Second Hand Love, Work in Progress

Yours Sincerely has been quite busy with music, including some commissioned for a little movie and whatnot, and finds little time for art -- but this is what's brewing... Ink on aquarelle paper, with colours whenever I can. And the working title is Second Hand Love.

(I've also done some work done on the Dalí ABC mentioned a few weeks ago but don't deem it ready to fly yet. There's a serious streak of perfectionism. Patience is a virtue. You're very virtuous.)

August 07, 2016

Mandala of Sorts

I just finished this (so perhaps we're running a few minutes late) and it is, as the title says, a Mandala of some kind.

I suppose that it is made up of... well, what it has to be made up of. Fragments of desire, I suppose. Hands, Octopus stuff, and so on. But I really don't know. It is a fractal, somehow, with some seriously flawed mathematics in it. And so, I feel, is Life.

Some would call it a dreamcatcher. As long as one is free from nightmares, daily and nightly, I'm fine.