So I tried to break myself out of the creative prison of my last failed painting, and ended up with something weird and ugly. In letting out my feelings onto canvas, I suppose that was a success. But it’s nothing pleasant that I would hang or ask anyone to buy. I paper mached the canvas in some misguided effort to create texture, and then started to paint a bird caught in a dreamcatcher before the painting suddenly decided it wanted to be an abstract. I tried to follow the instinct and ended up wrist deep in this:
It actually wouldn’t be so weird if not for the paper mache…?
No. It’d still be weird.
Afterward I made Rolo Chocolate Chip Blondies — the obvious choice for an evening of pouting. (After an impromptu run to the store in our pajamas — thank you, baby! <3)
I keep meaning to blog, but I then I just…don’t. I suppose that’s because I have no new art to report, although I have been working on a piece. It’s been pretty draining. See, I decided that I’m going to start selling my art. So I got fancy, expensive canvases for this half-baked trio design aaaaaand… it’s become the bane of my existence. It’s such a large surface area that it’s taking FOREVER, and the depth of the canvas means I have to paint the sides too! (Which is not easy on top of trash bags on the floor with a new tattoo on my ankle that I’m still babying.) I’m going to have to charge $500 for this thing for my pain and suffering alone.
Here’s the WIP:
So what’s going on with me? I’m still convinced that my medication affects my writing. I don’t feel as creative in that capacity. Not even for poems. I guess it’s a small price to pay for sanity…but it’s still kind of sad to think about it.
So this is me, tuning out…
My art has taken a weird turn. And writing anything but smut with my husband is a challenge. I don’t know if I am just in a funk, or if this is your art on drugs* kids… But I keep having visions of clay pieces in frames with this’s and thats. But when it comes time to actually paint said pieces I fat finger it and end up with…slop. So that’s a problem.
*The kind that are legally prescribed to me by my doctor for bipolar. Settle down.
Just as I was ready to declare I’d never paint again, this popped out. It started off as some weird, late night, drunken paint doodle of a girl and this abstract meets anime black sheep lady face concept (I know) that had to be promptly painted over. The background was basically born out of my love of blue and black cherry paint colors and the struggle to cover up my whoops. And then when I got to the point of the tree I decided it needed something else, so I asked husband dearest what he thought.
“I don’t know why, but I see gazelles.”
Those were inspired by these cute statues we have at work. Actually they are directly plagiarized from the those cute statues at work. I found a picture.
I tried to write some poetry today.
Something about a girl bubbling over.
It was shit.
Just thought everyone should know.
I did some more things while cooped up/should be resting but is arting everywhere instead. I made music note shaped wax melts! With (too much) bamboo fragrance, my own dried basil, and soy wax! I call them “Bamboosiled.” Eeee!!!
Oh and this painting came out of a low cycle…
And this thumbnail doodle comes from a happy place.
So I’ve been working on this for a while. There are a lot of components here… The weird little gremlins who live in the cage — they are Anxiety and Depression. I made a girly, flowery bed to put them in when I’m done with them, but as with all things when it comes to me, it can’t be contained. I wish it looked as cool in pictures as it does in person, but maybe that’s part of the beauty of it.
Stop your surgery scratching
You’re not the doctor
Leave the splinters and pins in the heart where you found them
I’m better off hurting
No more pills more pills more
A functioning melancholic
30 doesn’t mean you’re grown up
Fallen is the star
Insecure of shining
If the others will be brighter
But the dawn came for them all