Thursday, March 27, 2008

This is an oil pastel rendition of an earlier digital picture that I did for my picture book and the upcoming Book Fair (keep your fingers crossed for me, people). I wrestle a bit with the traditional vs digital thing, especially since it's full of things that I imagine being horribly repetitive to draw, like snowflakes and raindrops and cherry blossoms. And while I think that the pictures are a little more interesting digitally, or executed better, the truth is the process in oil pastel is way, way more satisfying.

Friday, March 21, 2008

The Children’s Book Fair in Spain is drawing near, and so on the request of the agent I have been trying to ready my book dummy, reworking the sketches in pencil rather than in Illustrator. Its pretty intense work and every day part of me thinks “there’s no way I’m going to finish!”. I keep pushing ahead because it would be a terrible opportunity to pass up.

I’m doing a full day of drawing everyday, but yesterday I found that before I left my studio I had to take a half an hour to just draw for the sake of drawing. Every now and then I see some art done in a particular medium and style that I really like, and then it sort of gets stuck in my head so that I have to try it. It’s rarely ever successful, but it does get me to try new things (and some art supplies that I bought but barely used). Invariably it leads to something else that I’m kind of happy with. So in this way I suppose I’m making my own art school.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Because I’ve been watching a lot of Six Feet Under of late (my recent pick as Most Unbelievable Work of Art) I’ve been thinking about death a lot. I have to confess to being a bit of an unnecessary worrier - worrying about fires and earthquakes and other natural disasters, thoughts about my kids and whether or not I will be strong enough to save them in the event of said disaster, how it would even be like betraying my kids if I were to die. But lately what I’ve been thinking about is how it seems crazy that of all times in history I should be here now, and how music and art and technology and literature and the great human drama will continue on after me, and I won’t get to find out one single thing that happens. Its not feeling surprised that the world could continue on without me, its just like reading the most amazing book in the world but having to take it back to the library before you get to the end.

And it IS weird that I’m here now, and so are these people who have become my friends, and this band whose music I love - there are no sensations of ever having been alive or of having had a consciousness at any other point in history. What made me conscious here and now? Its really rather bizarre when you think about it, and probably kind of weighty for a weekend morning when all your kids want to do is be taken out for breakfast.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Blah blah blah

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Carrot Garden

I'm trying to update my portfolio, and here's the first result. I'd have done more if I hadn't had such a terrible flu the last few days.