“Aren’t you meant to be plotting a novel right now?”
“Don’t you have a manuscript to edit?”
I just finished a pass, let me have five minutes.
“You’ve had rather more than f–”
I made an art. You can buy prints, if you are absolutely desperate to own a print of a bowl of rice rather than an actual bowl of rice. Personally, I would rather have the rice, but I’m very hungry. This particular rice was consumed after an exhaustive examination of the Tate Britain’s long-awaited & hotly-anticipated Queer British Art: 1861 – 1967. I should probably have an opinion on that, on here, at length, but to be honest I feel that drawing a bowl of rice is less contentious and contributes more to the world than me bellyaching about minor details in what is, regardless of my fussing and personal preferences, a splendid step in the right direction regarding the inclusion of queer history.
Emphasis very heavily on the “sketch” this time: occasionally I like to take a photo or screencap and blow it up until the image is no longer distinguishable, and then just trace areas of major colour change, and then shrink it back down to see if it is a coherent picture. This time a screenshot from Eastern Promises (2007, dir. David Cronenberg, starring Naomi Watts, Viggo Mortensen, and Vincent Cassel).
Then on to drawing from a statue, this time Emmanuel Frémiet’s Pan and Bear Cubs, which people have very obligingly photographed from a variety of angles (I can’t go and look at it myself as it’s in the Musée d’Orsay and my travelcard only goes to zone 3):
I did actually try one from the front as well but it turns out I am a lot better at drawing dainty goat legs than I am at drawing a) bears and b) human faces, which has troubling implications. Pan ended up looking somewhat cross-eyed and a little piqued and the bear looked as if it had just crash-landed from Jupiter, so I shall not be posting that one!
I have knackered my hand doing heraldic embroidery because split-stitch is hard, velvet is tricky, I am using metallic threads in some sort of masochistic act of virulent subconscious self-hatred, and so I have been forced to take a break by my thumb joint and whichever flexor or thing it is that makes the thumb do what thumbs do. Oppose, I suppose. It is certainly a very oppositional thumb at the moment.
My capacity for idleness being very small in the face of no obligations (and infinite in the face of deadlines, like everyone else), I went and kicked my desktop until it would run Photoshop, a task it is not really up to due to having about as much RAM as a 1980s pocket calculator, and then I drew some things.
Please bear in mind that while they are horrible, at least part of their horribleness is as a result of having an enormous lag between the movement of the WACOM pen and the appearance of a line on screen.
En fin, there is this racy number which again, is mostly kissing and a tiny bit of penis, but you probably shouldn’t look at it if you are in school. Or working somewhere strict. Or under 18.
All painstakingly scratched out using a WACOM Bamboo tablet and Photoshop CS2 running on a computer that was possibly built by a crew of flying monkeys.
The story of Persephone and Hades is open to a variety of interpretations. I’ve written a sestina taking the approach of Persephone as a girl who falls in with her junkie boyfriend; you can use Hades as a stand-in for a lot of things, or you can approach it as others have done, as a willing escape from a less-than-perfect situation (something I used as the basis of a poem about Ganymede last month).
So far I’ve already used Persephone’s name for a close-up of a pomegranate. So I thought I’d have a little bash at Persephone taking her seeds with pleasure.
Finding reference of the specific pose I wanted was impossible, and this second-best was only achieved by finding a .gif of pornography and then taking the frame. I am quite sure that if I was any good at intuitively determining the correct search terms for reference archives, I would be a lot better at finding good reference images. As it stands, I used a low-quality .gif and the idea of Persephone’s acceptance of the seeds as a pornographic performance sprang from the reference material, so it wasn’t entirely a bad diversion.
As snow does for my mood what it does for the national railways, all productivity ceased the other day and I skulked around my flat listening to Howard Goodall talking about Mozart (and swearing, because I don’t like Mozart) until I was in enough of a good mood to cheer myself up by drawing silly pictures of statues:
Aside from demonstrating a) my weird obsession with doing line art in dark red and b) that I should never be allowed either to talk to people on Twitter (whence springs the David) or to use Photoshop, the last came out quite well, so I put it on a t-shirt.
We shall just have to hope that I can get my writing groove back on or there will be more of this nonsense.