What a wonderful, dizzy, whirlwind week it has been! Before I collapse into bed, here's a peek at the progress I've made on my latest Birdwoman painting/collage thing. The first image is the right side of the painting, and the second one is the left side. I will eventually cut it vertically in certain places and shuffle the resulting pieces around a bit.
I've been moving the cut-out bunny head around all week, and I think he belongs over there on the right, among the pumpkin runners. I also painted stars raining down all over the place, the dahlia on the right, and the fox hanging out under the moon. A few months ago, as I was driving along, I saw a bright red fox crossing the road up ahead. A few moments later I saw a cottontail rabbit hopping across as well, and I thought to myself, "look out, Mr. Bunny!" Over the past couple of days this has become my mantra. I added the fox to create another little subplot in the narrative of the painting. I also felt like the image was getting too cutesie. It needed a little bit of potential death and distruction. Mwah ha ha ha.
I also added these dahlia's, which were from my Mom's garden last summer. This particular snow bunting will be cut out and used in another painting.
Check out this crazy tendril AND the warm (as in color, NOT temperature) springtime sunlight spilling into my studio:
Check out this amazing blind contour drawing one of my nine-year-old students did this week. She was looking at her own face in the mirror:
And here's a delicious quote from Simon Armitage's translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Perfect for my obsession with all things weather-related. Perfect for mid-March in New England:
And here's a delicious quote from Simon Armitage's translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Perfect for my obsession with all things weather-related. Perfect for mid-March in New England:
But wild-looking weather was about in the world:
clouds decanted their cold rain earthwards;
the nithering north needled man's very nature;
creatures were scattered by the stinging sleet.
Then a whip-cracking wind comes whistling between hills
driving snow into deepening drifts in the dales(155).
No comments:
Post a Comment