Random Sketchbook Pages: Paper and Digital

collage and ink

gouache

  

collage and ink

  

felt marker, ink, color pencil

 

 

found object and natural material "mini installation"

 

found object and natural material "mini installation"

found and natural materials, altered photo

 

Digital Sketchbook

Have been playing a little with images of some of my art whilst recovering from a very nasty case of flu. I am seldom ill and being such a restless soul I have found it a bit melancholy living indoors, in one spot, for an entire week. Write and say hello if you have a moment, whether friend or future (but presently unknown) friend--things feel lonely here-- although as I write I am in a cyber cafe, my elbow being gently accosted by the wet nose of a very large and lovely white German Shepherd. (I love the way animals can come along in European cafes--the US is so hyper about "health" laws it would never happen).

the original fae realm shadow box

detail

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"vintage" version

retro hippie version (tee hee)

begun with a photo of work composed of found objects around my grainy photo of a Victorian era child's gravestone, then altered slightly in photoshop

more with the same photo-- a version with different objects--an old music box mechanism, a faded botanical specimen caught in leaded glass, butterfly wing encased in mica, etc

and yet again

 And finally on a more colorful and less melancholy note--- the original papier-mache and found object "mosaic" of the ubiquitous heart in hand motif which is always sneaking into my work and thoughts...

along with another version from photoshop...

Sketch Book Pages

It was a very Old Thing and it had been sitting for it didn’t know how long beside a muddy brook in the rain. It might have been there for years or days or hours, it couldn’t say. Then it heard the creak of hinges and an odd gruff voice with a creak of its own calling. The Old Thing made a harrumphing sound and raised itself up, heading for the small oval portal in the earthen bank.

Inside it was dry and toasty warm and the Old Thing couldn’t imagine why it had been sitting alone in the rain and mud for such a time. Just then the kitchen door swung open and there were toast and tea and blackberry marmalade on a pewter tray in the midst of an ancient oak table. Encircling the table a carved bas relief seemed to twist and dance in the fire light, unfolding a tale that changed from beginning to end even as it was told. For a moment Old Thing was lost in the telling, "Come Old Thing!" the voice said "Sit here by the fire!" For once Old Thing did as it was told, ambling along in a toadish fashion that would have left wet foot marks if Old Thing could find any feet. It had a wide lipless mouth and mottled grey-green skin much like a toad ---but who or what it was, really, the Old Thing couldn’t say.

Nor can I.