‘The semitransparent Ostriches of Enceledus’, 5″ X 7″, pen on paper. It could be either, what were you thinking the last time you made a drawing of something? My favourite work is when I’m not thinking, which only happens alone, no cameras recording anything, then it would not be meditation. And for many artists that is the case. Preparing and making content for a page in order to attract interest to sell the work disrupts the work itself. Perhaps not so much for the younger generation which seems permanently on camera. For myself, I would have to set up cameras running all the time and learn how to ignore the fact they are there. I have tried over the many years of this blog, but its still the same effect. When I start a drawing or painting, I am not thinking about you, or anyone or anything else. When a camera is set up to record, that’s all I can think of, the cameras there, how should I sit or hold the brush for you to see what’s happening, so I am no longer creating the art, I’m creating a version of it for others to see. They don’t happen with the purpose of making money, however they are for sale, and I do need money to live and create more oddities.
How to draw a picture. I seem to have difficulty thinking about the process of recording work as it happens. I am rarely thinking about the broadcast nature of it all now. For my website to work properly, lots of traffic, I should be posting regularly. It does work to a degree, but not really for selling art at the price it should be. For that, how they happen is private.
Once I had recovered enough breath to walk further afield, sitting around the trees was still the best feeling. Maybe there is more oxygen in their vicinity. I never really learned to draw or sketch formally. I had a few oil painting lessons from a local learning centre when I was a teenager. This is all entirely self taught. When I look at a blank piece of paper or canvas or wood, my intention is to create a finished piece, not a sketch. However I have made oil paintings from these drawings.
‘A tree beside the dam in the park.’, 8″ X 10″, pencil on paper.
‘The foot of the tree in the park across the road from the centre of the universe.’, 9″ X 12″, pencil on paper.
‘The other side of the foot of the tree in the park across the road from the centre of the universe.’, 9″x12″, pencil on paper.
These drawings were among the first I made following yet another health disaster. Lung disease from living in industrial cities. Doing industrial jobs, I was a sign painter when it was done with paint, also highly toxic, full of lead and every other element of suspicious sources to make real colour that lasts. Forever. That’s what it said anyway. At this point in time I was coping with the 8th time my lung collapsed. Like a balloon popping, you can hear it when it happens. I recovered by sitting on trees and drawing them. The roots mean something to me, the interface to the underworld. The part the tree knows but you don’t. They also look like foothills of mountain ranges like the Himalaya’s which are getting bigger as the glaciers disappear.