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| Drawing: My Bestest Morning Model |
(waterproof ink pen, rubber stamp ink pads, pigment ink pads)
No art lesson last week, which forced me back on myself to draw a bit more on my own this past week. Looking at what I did I was kind of shocked! Drawing in bed is one of my favorite things to do in the morning. Most weekday mornings, I get up and fix coffee for my husband and I and bring it back to bed. My husband reads manuscripts for his publishing job, our cats sometime join us, and lately I use the time to either read art books, journal, or draw. This past week I continued to read
Journal Spilling by Diana Trout who uses spilling writing as a writing exercise. Diana credits Julia Cameron who uses this technique to stimulate creative writing in her book
The Artist's Way (which I picked up way long ago and never read). Basically you write anything that comes up. Could be one word, could be a slew of sentences and if you get stuck or pause keep writing the same thing until something different comes into your brain.
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| Journal Spilling: The Critic and the Firebird |
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The exercise I started with from Diana's book was to spill write non-stop about your critic. Then draw a picture of yourself and cut it out and collage it on top. I was in too much of a hurry so I just drew a face on top of the writing. Mmmm. Is this my critic -- or is this me? I colored the drawing later with ink pads, iridescent chalk and pigment inks. The name "Firebird" came up because of the red hair I guess. But I think I also think of myself as a firebird -- I keep rising up out of the ashes, over and over again.
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| Drawing: MeThinks Me Perhaps |
This was my second page of spill writing about my critic. I took a longer time drawing this bird. Notice the oriel necklace she's wearing. I am having trouble with my scanner so the color is not as strong here as it is in reality. Haven't figured it out yet. I used again here watercolors, ink pads, pigment pens, permanent pens. I like whatever is emerging in this drawing. There's a lot I don't like still, but I am becoming more comfortable with fumbling around -- like someone who has been blinded or put in a pitch black room and is getting their bearings. "Surprise, surprise..." as Gomer Pyle used to say.
And as a postscript I drew two journal pages in the past week:
one and
two.