Messages. Created with Corel Painter.
Meant to be the colorful sound-dance of conversation.
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Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud.
— Herman Hesse
It’s been a while since I’ve done a dream post, but I visited an interesting place in my dreams the other night and wanted to make some artwork to remember it.
Much like my last dream post location, I’m pretty sure I was on another planet.
David and I were staying at a beachside resort at the base of a snowy mountain range. I don’t think the landscape was actually shades of red and orange as much as the atmosphere—and, like the last dream, twin suns—cast it to appear that way… but it was eerie and warm and incredibly strange.
So, where have you visited in your dreams lately?
Sunrise at Summit Beach. Created with Corel Painter and Adobe Photoshop.
All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together.
— Jack Kerouac
Dusk to Dawn. Created with Corel Painter.
Moonlit still life at table with flowers.
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Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree. — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Just in time for our anniversary, here’s the companion ‘me’ to my darling husband’s Doctor (Who) portrait.
Although I don’t have regeneration as an excuse, I created a younger alternate self with slightly different features (hey, David got an upgrade and I wanted one too). I gave her my unevenly-cut hair, though; I’m always snipping the ends myself instead of going to the salon and I suspect I’d keep that quirk if I were busy with all that wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff.
When I first ‘met’ my husband, he was an El Aurian on a Star Trek RPG. Even being Betazoid in the game, I had a hard time figuring him out. He can be delightfully enigmatic. Back then, I did portraits of our characters. I can’t find them to show you, but it’s one of those things I did and do.
Now, a decade and a half later, David and I no longer play RPGS, but we’ve been watching Doctor Who together. He occasionally jokes about having once been a Time Lord and says he gave up all that for me.
Which is damn charming. And nearly believable. He’s always been so sharp and intense and yet silly and generous and wonderful and more adjectives than I can list. Old soul, as they say.
And so, since our wedding anniversary is approaching, I decided to make a comic-style portrait of him as the Doctor. Different, a bit—regeneration will do that to you—but still with the intensity and of course: epic facial hair (David and his mustache surely go back many lifetimes). And a scarf. Because I prefer Doctors with scarves.
I just realized El Aurians are sort of a Trek version of Time Lords. Slightly. Okay, not so much. Well, at least they’re long-lived. Not sure if I can imagine Guinan in a TARDIS. Picard would have been a fun companion. Nah. Data. Maybe.
Suppose I’ll have to draw myself up as his companion next?
Happy Anniversary, David!
I last did this style of illustration for the Fly Into Fire posters for Candlemark & Gleam. I had a lot of fun with this portrait, so I may make others in a similar style. If I do, I’ll list them for print. For now, this one stays on our walls.
Another attempt at loose portraiture. Still not allowing myself to get truly sloppy with the brush, but I like how this one came out. Lillian is a character in a story idea I had that never got written. Maybe someday. Well, at least if characters don’t get words on a page, they can still have color on a canvas.
What is either a picture or a novel that is not character? — Henry James
The other morning, I was watching Antiques Roadshow and someone had brought in a poster by Andy Warhol. I hadn’t thought about Warhol since the last Men in Black movie—where Andy Warhol turns out to really be an undercover MIB Agent (not much of a spoiler, I promise). So…
After coffee, I went upstairs and made changes to the portrait experiment I was working on. And the image with this post is what I did.
I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I kinda look like this in the mirror every morning, coffee or no. Fatigue is like a bad trip. Now that I’ve exorcised the sleepless eyes onto the canvas, maybe I can get forty decent winks.
Not being able to sleep is terrible. You have the misery of having partied all night… without the satisfaction. — Lynn Johnston
Before we went out of town, I began playing with abstract portraits. I wanted to create something heavy on brushstrokes, with only a hint of actual portrait. Didn’t work; I kept adding lines. Sooooo, I kept the brushstroke layers that were the original sketches and worked them in. The results were what you see above.
Just an experiment, but figured it’d be fun to share! Haven’t yet decided if I’ll offer prints of these portraits, but will update when/if I do.
Blue Lady. Nope, not from a photo. Offset layers. Individual layers done in Corel Painter. Blending modes added in Adobe Photoshop.
An artist never really finishes his work; he merely abandons it. — Paul Valéry
Graffiti Angel. Created with Corel Painter and Adobe Photoshop.
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Don’t worry, you can blink. Had to say that, given I’d just finished this artwork and ended up watching Doctor Who ["Blink"] that same night. Odd timing.
Angels. Yep, some of them are scary. I’ve done (not scary) art with them before. Well, I don’t suppose an angel in graffiti could come to life and getcha…
Anything’s possible: so, don’t blink. ;)
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free. — Michelangelo
Flood in the Factory. Digital markers, created with Corel Painter.
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I had this powerful dream the other night. In it, I freed myself from an immense labyrinthine factory—levels and levels of alien pipework and and not a soul in sight, although I felt pursued—by calling the waters. Strangest thing. I rode them out and found myself on an alien shore with two suns rising.
So, I painted the factory. Maybe next I’ll paint the shore and suns. Instead of always writing down my dreams, I figured it might be an interesting experience to recall the visuals in color.
Do you keep a record of your dreams?
They say dreams are the windows of the soul—take a peek and you can see the inner workings, the nuts and bolts. — Henry Bromel