I was only going to beautify my light-switch… but, clearly, I can’t help myself. I recognise that it’s a problem…
I absolutely LOVE IKEA’S glass domes (BEGÅVNING)…although, I’m not entirely sure they envisioned them showcasing anything like this…
Knowing thyself…hmmm, if asked, how would you, truthfully (please remove your rose-tinted glasses 😎), describe yourself?
A description that would allow ‘others’ to know you; to really understand, what it means to be you?
No? I couldn’t either…because such knowledge is frustratingly elusive. This intrinsic awareness of oneself, exists just beyond our grasp.
And yet, knowing this, I embarked upon this maddening perusal, of trying to ‘know’ myself; scrutinising the darkest corners of my ID. All research, for my next artwork; the oh, so dreaded, self-portrait.
There’s nothing like a good wall quote…that is all.
Thank you for your time.
There’s nothing more satisfying then fonishong an artwork for a friend…hope she loves her!
I have dropped this artwork, three bloody, motherf**king time. SERIOUSLY! It was smashed and broken beyond repair (well, almost). But, I was the little train that could; and I just kept going. Bot proud of my self for persevering, because it was a close one, let me tell you! 😑
I will always be found, toiling in the dark hours of night; because “I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it”…for the world can be remade in the shadows of midnight.
Guess where I sourced the wax foe these casts? My son’s cheese wheels. Yes, you heard right; I melted down the wax that Babybel cheese comes in!
Annnnd…that’s why artists should NEVER throw out possible resources!
I have a love/hate relationship with dictatorial commissions (where the client dictates what you’ll be painting). They pay the bills, but quite often I’m left painting subject matter waaaaay out of my skillset and comfort zone; but…they pay the bills. Sooooo, here we are.
There are particular products, mediums & tools that are an absolute necessity in the artist’s dance with creativity. They aren’t sexy, inspiring or even vaguely attractive (like that guy standing in the shadowed corner after you’ve consumed a full night’s worth of firewater).
I digress.. sooo, unsexy, BUT necessary art supplies; and I have to suffer their uninspiring presence every. damn. day.
Annnd so, I beautified them…because I couldn’t/can’t help myself!
I realise that there’s something wrong with me. It’s a compulsion, nay, an obsession; as I truly can’t help myself…mind you, as a pursuant of creativity, that’s not necessarily an erroneous pursuit.
[…] because there’s somrthing kind-of awesome about living & breathing the chaos and obsession of the everyday artist.