(Kurt says that)
(It signifies intensity)
Here are some drawings and paintings that reflect my thought processes, but are still part of a build-up to something more big and whole.
I began this painting of a rabbit in some specific fluffy vegetation and being overseen by an evil Ortonish sneaky manboy.
It feels like a condensed exercise in figuring out the mechanics of how my next paintings will be constructed. It’s in acrylics which allow for quick changes.
Here’s the fluffy plant that visually interested me so. I took the photo on the way home from the gym, my buttocks still warm from their herculean efforts.
And now here’s the painting in its current state, a little bit cleverer and more advanced:
(I did the last session while I was watching the end of season 2 of Lost. I think I missed a couple of visual plot clues because of it.)
I keep meaning to come up with some mindblowingly cute self-portrait to use as a new avatar and myspace picture. But then every time I draw myself I end up looking like a deranged hag. And also I’m not nearly as interesting as lumpy testosterone charged glistening boymen.
In a phone conversation with my friend Scott, I came up with the insightful gem of a statement: ‘I like faces, but I like arses too.’
And here’s how the rest of that page grew:
Oh Randy, you throw yourself about so beautifully, but where are your eyeballs?
Speaking of Scott, I did a couple of initial Bob and Scott studies just to get a feeling for how easy they were going to be. Scott was surprisingly easy. His eyebrows are the key to him.
He’s the one with the dinky bow tie.
I can’t pretend I haven’t drawn any wrestlers though. I’m afraid I have.
John Cena: what was God thinking when he forgot to finish whittling you?
When we fed Cena’s head into the genetic celebrity face-match finder, there were no matches. It’s because he looks like an action figure more than a human.
He is inexplicably worshipped in India.
Sometimes when I’m trying to plan way-out paintings with plant life and punching, it all gets a bit scribbly.
In this next one I made Randy look like Sloth from the Goonies. By accident. I’m not sure I’d show him this if he came round for tea.
In my sketchbook I do loose limbed doodles by which I try to think. You have to start somewhere. Humble beginnings.
I wanted to paint Randy looking scrunched next to some holly to see how my acrylic technique has evolved. Everything I do is like an anal little experiment at the moment. But I think I needed this phase after many a long day getting swallowed up in the haze of relentless painting slog.
Here’s the painting a little bit further along.
Bob said it was turning into a Vice Reeves Elvis. This was not intentional. I’ll show you what a Vic Reeves Elvis looks like in a sec.
It’s interesting painting in acrylics again. I’m very aware now of the strengths and specific qualities of acrylic as opposed to other kinds of paint. It’s great for fast opaque changes and adjustments in drawing along the way. The opacity feels a bit ugly compared to my oil and watercolour paintings, but you have to milk the strengths of each one for all it’s worth, and something good will emerge.
Vic Reeves was a favourite comedian of mine during my adolescence. He also draws and paints. He only ever seems to do anything to amuse himself primarily, which can make him a bit complacent and lazy, but I still have a soft spot for him and sometimes I feel I could get a little bit more complacent and lazy myself occasionally.
When people prefer my phone doodles to the paintings I have spent hours of thought and labour on, that’s really…ggghgg… annoying.
And I know John K would disapprove of aspiring to draw like people who draw in a deliberately naïve cheeky sort of a way. Mmm, frictions.
Bye bye for now, kind blog readers.
I hope you’ve seen something that’s been worth stopping for.
Giuseppe Bernardino Bison - Pluto and a Harlequin in Hell, 18th-19th C - [image: Giuseppe Bernardino Bison - Pluto and a Harlequin in Hell, 18th-19th C]
1 hour ago