I Bleed Art. In a good way...
So, Sunday, I woke up to the tail end of a dream saying something like "you will love art" or enjoy art, or something like that. I woke up really hopeful and inspired. Not inspired in an idea sort of way, but more in the sense of having a reason to move again. Then I got a decent amount of work done between yesterday and today on my projects.
(Ahh...fuck, my laundry is still in the dryer downstairs...this could be bad...)
Then I went out to Japanese/Sushi with Kassi and Ryan. (Not a sushi fan, I am...) And then to the print lab, which apparently had an effect on me. Went home, felt uninspired, looked at buttons with sayings and shit online, put a big load of laundry in, and finally made myself sit down and do my last drawing that I need for tomorrow (it's actually only the 3rd I need out of 4, but that's not due til Thursday).
And the printlab experience reared its head. I started out tame. Controlled. Reserved. Like I normally do. A little bit of abstract-esque xerox transfer, some black soft pastel... Then I decided that I wanted to be in it too. So I got my arms and face wet and layed down in the pastel. Didn't work as well (at all) as I had hoped, should have put down charcoal, not pastel. Got a little irked. Decided that the solution was white paint. Got some gloss medium and white acrylic and mixed them together in my hands, then spread it over my forearms and the right side of my face. Layed down again. Squirmed a bit just to make sure I made a good print. Got face covered in white paint and charcoal and soft pastel. Couldn't get it off ust int he sink so took a shower. (Still didn't get it all off my arms, but I like it there, it makes me look artsy.) Dropped some black ink on it. Ink pilled up in some places because of the oil in the pastels. The charcoal floated on top. Kinda neat. Threw some black ink. It slid in beads, streaking accross. Mixed up some watered down white paint. Threw some of that on there. End result: beautiful insanity. I love it. I think it even works compositionally. And it's absolutely and completely different from the uber-controlled, minimalist drawing I did for one of my drawings for this assignment. This is the first time I've really broken my boundaries in a LONG time. It feels amazing.
Is it considered representational if it resembles me because I smashed my white-painted face and arms into it? Can I consider my body a tool?
The downside to this evening was that while disrobing for the shower I got white paint on my black wife-beater. Sadness. I tried to get a good white face print on it to at least make it look cool, but no success. So I think I'm going to paint in red on the front and back "The opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation!" Then I can wear it without it looking like just a work shirt, and people will think I'm weird.
Ok, I should probably get some sleep. Or whatever. Art is double-plus-good.
(Ahh...fuck, my laundry is still in the dryer downstairs...this could be bad...)
Then I went out to Japanese/Sushi with Kassi and Ryan. (Not a sushi fan, I am...) And then to the print lab, which apparently had an effect on me. Went home, felt uninspired, looked at buttons with sayings and shit online, put a big load of laundry in, and finally made myself sit down and do my last drawing that I need for tomorrow (it's actually only the 3rd I need out of 4, but that's not due til Thursday).
And the printlab experience reared its head. I started out tame. Controlled. Reserved. Like I normally do. A little bit of abstract-esque xerox transfer, some black soft pastel... Then I decided that I wanted to be in it too. So I got my arms and face wet and layed down in the pastel. Didn't work as well (at all) as I had hoped, should have put down charcoal, not pastel. Got a little irked. Decided that the solution was white paint. Got some gloss medium and white acrylic and mixed them together in my hands, then spread it over my forearms and the right side of my face. Layed down again. Squirmed a bit just to make sure I made a good print. Got face covered in white paint and charcoal and soft pastel. Couldn't get it off ust int he sink so took a shower. (Still didn't get it all off my arms, but I like it there, it makes me look artsy.) Dropped some black ink on it. Ink pilled up in some places because of the oil in the pastels. The charcoal floated on top. Kinda neat. Threw some black ink. It slid in beads, streaking accross. Mixed up some watered down white paint. Threw some of that on there. End result: beautiful insanity. I love it. I think it even works compositionally. And it's absolutely and completely different from the uber-controlled, minimalist drawing I did for one of my drawings for this assignment. This is the first time I've really broken my boundaries in a LONG time. It feels amazing.
Is it considered representational if it resembles me because I smashed my white-painted face and arms into it? Can I consider my body a tool?
The downside to this evening was that while disrobing for the shower I got white paint on my black wife-beater. Sadness. I tried to get a good white face print on it to at least make it look cool, but no success. So I think I'm going to paint in red on the front and back "The opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation!" Then I can wear it without it looking like just a work shirt, and people will think I'm weird.
Ok, I should probably get some sleep. Or whatever. Art is double-plus-good.