I love color.
Strangely enough, my memories usually contain very little color, and are blurry on the whole.
I remember plots, I remember emotions, I remember the idea of the moment, but colors (and details, and dates, and names) escape me very quickly.
Maybe this is why when I actually do notice brilliant colors they always seem so startlingly enjoyable.
Or my subconscious has the pleasure receptors of a five year old.
Either way works.
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Sunday, 12 April 2009
I find that I have a pleasant reaction to frustration and impediment.
Work harder.
It's not really a reaction that will fix all my problems in every situation, but at the very least it helps distract me from them.
...
Well, in this case it's certainly the right response, as I only have three weeks left of school, and I really don't think I can be working hard enough.
After that I will be given a sheet of paper stating that i "draw real good" (regardless of actual talent), and will unfortunately have to uproot myself from the comfy nest I have pieced together over the previous year.
As is always the case I have accumulated even more priceless junk that I will need to sort through, keep, sell, or throw out.
My somewhat massive comic/art book collection continues to grow.
I will probably die in middle age due to me reaching for a "ranma" manga and having a whole bookshelf of pulp paper come crashing down ontop of my head.
...
I think I read a story about that happening to a brother who lived in a maze of books with his blind sibling, and then the blind sibling died alone in the self built catacomb.
(anyways, here are two updated but perpetually unfinished drawings)
Work harder.
It's not really a reaction that will fix all my problems in every situation, but at the very least it helps distract me from them.
...
Well, in this case it's certainly the right response, as I only have three weeks left of school, and I really don't think I can be working hard enough.
After that I will be given a sheet of paper stating that i "draw real good" (regardless of actual talent), and will unfortunately have to uproot myself from the comfy nest I have pieced together over the previous year.
As is always the case I have accumulated even more priceless junk that I will need to sort through, keep, sell, or throw out.
My somewhat massive comic/art book collection continues to grow.
I will probably die in middle age due to me reaching for a "ranma" manga and having a whole bookshelf of pulp paper come crashing down ontop of my head.
...
I think I read a story about that happening to a brother who lived in a maze of books with his blind sibling, and then the blind sibling died alone in the self built catacomb.
(anyways, here are two updated but perpetually unfinished drawings)
Saturday, 11 April 2009
Thursday, 2 April 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)