I’m going to make a different video tomorrow. A story will be told. A story of me.
I haveĀ never been the story of my life to me. I felt like I was a character but today I become …more.
The journey moves forward.
Tag: love
Dalia a painting
I think in this time of men and women or women and men….depends on how you feel I guess, we are alive on two plains. One of bone and one of digital wires. I am no real difference. I crave the likes and shares like the the rest of you but I don’t want that to change why or how I paint and make short films. I want to learn a lot this year in my craft from other masters and so I have started studying again in classes. It is a huge step in my life to restart but I feel I’m up for it. I never knew there where so many ways to say “I love you” with a brush to a canvas. It feels like I learned a new sex trick. I can’t wait to surprise my wife with this just to see her smile.
With this one I have learned how to better curve my brushes and make the best points for my lines. I love my brushes so this feels so natural to take care of them in the best way.
I hope you enjoy. Also how are you? Are you taking any classes this year or taking on any new projects? I would love to hear about them in the comments.
all the pretty things
I just love making art. Its very simple. No magical answer. We are drawn to our passions. We are the pen point of focus and in that I feel at home. The world drafts away and I feel chingon.
the pill
I couldn’t sleep last night. It took me what felt like a life time to rest for a minute. It comes in waves. Years back when these moments attacked me I would stand up and paint until i couldn’t do anything but pass out. I’m not sure I will ever be that man again. He was insane and I’m only whiling to find madness it spurts. Art is my meditation and my drug…..plus drugs.
I remember the first time I saw myself as a painter. I was in a famous black professor of art’s studio. He took me under his wing. I’m not sure if he thought of it that way but I was swept up in the magic Ā of the smells of his studio. Charles Rogers changed my life I those moments of simply saying “do you think it is done? Are you sure you feel done? Give me another hour of that painting.” It drove me to madness and in that madness I found my style. Now when I paint I search inside for the madness to lead me. The colors are the wild beast screaming just under me heart and fingers. They are a pipeline to restfulness. I can always tell a “real” painter from a talker of art because that madness is a drug I crave and it leave a look in the eyes. A hunger that needs more then food and sleep and sex. Honestly until my Alec nothing but the madness gave peace and rest. She saved me from me. I have to push my self to the edge of madness with the brush and her heart beat is my anchor.
jaws_blake 