Day Two Hundred Ninety Eight

Downtown was lovely, although I feel quite separated from everything.
I think we're the coolest-dressed family. 

I kind of like these.

fin-ger-tip n. The extreme end of a finger. 

I have a serious issue with drawing hands...something about them...can't get the proportions right. I grabbed this word, though, as soon as I saw it. 
I knew I had to keep trying.

Now, this hand actually turned out fairly well. 
It's incredible what drawing from a photograph does for not only the style and reality of my drawings. 



Day Two Hundred Ninety Seven

Tomorrow is Friday, guys. 
Not just any Friday...but the Friday that happens tomorrow. 
Also, it's Final Friday. 
Which means a high of 74 and lots of things to shoot. 
(Photographically speaking-I've decided to take advantage of the beautiful fall weather and try my hand at some Bill Cunningham-style shots of the rather strange folk populating the streets of Lawrence.) 

an-kle n. Joint that connects the foot with the leg; slender section of the leg immediately above this joint.

So, I wasn't quite sure what to do with this word, but I kind of love drawing legs. I began with the ankle, and continued on from there.

Kind of dig this. 
Kind of going to find these clothes. 
Kind of might own them.



Day Two Hundred Ninety Six

I'm not sure what I did today. 
I worked on school for a while, and then kind of moseyed around. Didn't get to my painting today, but I found the world's tiniest brush...so that should help with the detail work. 

This word went absolutely perfectly with a song that'd been stuck in my head all day. 

The idea of this was just...no. 
My cynical, grumpy self just couldn't handle this freakin' word. 
But...I sucked it up and did the best I could manage. 

dear adj. Greatly cherished; loved.

Color? Color!

p.s. The holes in the middle of the paper are from staples--this paper was torn from a homemade notebook that had too many pages.



Day Two Hundred Ninety Five

Not much to say. Went outside for the first time in a coupla' days. 
I think it's fall or something.

twig n. A small branch which grows from a larger branch on a tree.

Not in love with this. 
Kind of dig her grumpy face, though. 
Reminds me of something...



Day Two Hundred Ninety Four

Didn't leave the house today. Not even to step onto the porch. 
Grumpy face.

thun-der-cloud n. A dark cloud carrying an electric charge and producing lightning and thunder.

Although it's been a little while since we've had a really, really good storm, I can still recall every detail of listening as one moved in. 
I have what I guess you could call a ritual-lighting pinon incense and relaxing at my desk-the windows open just enough for the rain not to soak my floor. 

I was tired of illustrating the records below the windows in my room...decided a different perspective would be nice. Eh. Dunno.



Day Two Hundred Ninety Three

Could I be more exhausted? I don't believe so. 
I'm really feeling the effects of not having a car...after walking four or five or a billion miles this afternoon for a photoshoot. 
Turned out well, though, and I've got about 300 frames to sort through.

doc-ile adj. Easily led, taught, or managed. 

Ick. I don't know if anything bothers me more than being "docile". 

Sunday, Sunday. Not much to say and even less energy to say it with. 
Evening, everyone. 


Day Two Hundred Ninety Two

breeze n. A slight gentle wind; something that is accomplished with very little effort. 



Day Two Hundred Ninety One

What a lovely day. 
Curled up on the stoop in the alley behind sunflower today-that alley where it's always cool and the walls are blanketed in ivy. Just far enough away from the chain-smoking hipsters to escape from being trapped in the cloud of Black and Mild. 

dip v. To let or put down into a liquid momentarily; to lift up and out by scooping or bailing; to be baptized by immersion; to make candles by repeatedly immersing wicks in wax or tallow; to sink or go down suddenly. n. A sauce made of liquid, into which something is to be dipped; a depression or hollow. Slang A silly person.

I liked this word. It made me think of, before getting in the pool, daintily dipping our toes carefully into the water to test the temperature. 

Apparently testing the water is more effective without a head or hands. 



Day Two Hundred Ninety

Spent another decent chunk of the afternoon painting away. It's exciting when you finally get to the detailing-the piece actually starts to take shape.
No photo updates yet-I decided I want to debut this as a final piece, as opposed to boring you with the process. 

Although today's word applies strongly in a more abstract way, I thought it might be a little more interesting if I illustrated it literally. 

dis-con-nect-ed adj. Not connected.

So, yep. 

You know, I kind of like this...



Day Two Hundred Eighty Nine

Typewriter font is back. Maybe back to say. We’ll see how good you are.

Slogged, and I mean SLOGGED through school today.
Maybe spending three hours on planning a very, very, very detailed vacation to Corsica for French II wasn’t the best use of my time. No. Screw that. Corsica beats applying my “knowledge” of inverse trigonometric functions to word problems any day.
I figured, since it’s early and I still have a bit of life left in me, that I’d try and make something kind of interesting out of today’s word.
So, with that (probably) empty promise made, shall we continue?

a- slant adv. In a slanting direction.

I’ve always liked words with the prefix a-...I resolve to use this word at least twice before the week is out...have to earn that pretentious hipster cred somehow.
(As I type, in typewriter font, on my personal art blog...)

This word, after spending an afternoon researching for shooting senior pictures, brought to mind the scores of awkwardly posed adolescents I’d clicked through on my travels around the internet. How awful. I couldn’t let that bleed into my work here. So I sat and stared that the wall for a while...thought about life and the earth and hoped to find some sort of greater meaning hidden within these six letters.
And, then, it was there.

I thought about the internal battle I often face of wondering if, because what I might think or feel is different than most of the world, I am wrong. This dilemma is often followed by me thinking that no; it does not mean I’m wrong...because what if the rest of the world is wrong?

Really, though, no one is wrong. 
No one is right.
It’s up to us to say if we ourselves are aslant or if, perhaps, the world is the one that’s a little off.



Day Two Hundred Eighty Eight

Ah, a long...long, long, long day. 

After a full round of classes, I finished off the afternoon with a serious amount of painting. The piece is in that awkward middle phase-like adolescence -it's ugly and awkward and sometimes I just want stop trying so hard-to let it die. But, like a parent, I love it too much and so I keep pushing...and being pushed right back. 
I think it's coming along though. Maybe I'll let it leave the basement sometime. 

Okay, I promise, this is the LAST lame day...at least for a little while...

bun n. Any of a variety of plain or sweet small breads; tightly rolled hair that resembles a bun.

Oh, boy. I'm sure you could have guessed on that one. Bleh. 



Day Two Hundred Eighty Seven

Spent the evening working on the newest art piece. The combination of sketching with erasing and sanding wore me out...
A very small preview of the overall piece (the board is several feet tall) below:

Suitably exhausted, I didn't have much energy left for today's post. 

bead n. A small round piece of material with a hole for threading.



Day Two Hundred Eighty Six

I procured two good sized boards this weekend for an upcoming project/series. As soon as I settled in at home, I got right down to sanding and sketching-got the background layer sketched out. (Updates in photographic form to come when there's something worth showing.) It's strange, though-no vision of a piece has come to me in such a defined way. It's as if I've been working up to this for some time...turning it over in my head-playing with the pieces-boiling it down until I ended up with an incredibly clear picture. The biggest obstacle, I think, will be to remain open-minded enough through this process to allow the piece to evolve on its own as opposed to forcing it. 

Hmm...the thrill of beginning to create again fit with this word...

wake v. To come to consciousness, as from sleep. n. A vigil for a dead body; the surface turbulence caused by a vessel moving through water.

Little bit of awake. 
I tried something relatively new with the eyes...I think I may translate that to my upcoming piece....

Day Two Hundred Eighty Five


Day Two Hundred Eighty Four

up-set v. To capsize; to turn over; to throw into confusion or disorder; to overcome; to beat unexpectedly. adj. Capsized; overturned; distressed; troubled. 



Day Two Hundred Eighty Three

Hey people...
Did you go outside today?
Crack a window?
Because, if you didn't, let me tell you...
It was chilly out there. 
Magnificently, wonderfully, brilliantly chilly. 
I can say that today is the first day of a very long time that I've been cold after leaving the house. Ah, bliss.

Anyway, continuing on...

Today's word really could have become anything. It lent itself to the dark and dreary in my mind, but I pulled back from that and decided to throw some humor in there. 

pit n. An artificial or manmade hole in the ground; a slight indentation in the skin, as a scar from the chicken pox; an area for refueling or repair at a car race; the stone in the middle of some fruit, as peaches. the pits Anything at its worst. 

So, "the pits" was really what struck me, but as I mentioned before, I'm through with that for now...

The image that formed in my head just struck me as a rather strange and comical scene, and I sought to illustrate it. 



Day Two Hundred Eighty Two

The search for pants continues...after three? four? a million? hours of searching, I am still unable to find a pair of midget pants that are small enough to fit my waist. 

So, today's word brought back a lot...and made me miss having the time to work in the print studio. I think I'll start with the word, and continue on from there...

Pass-o-ver n. The Jewish holiday which commemorates the Exodus from Egypt. 

So, yeah. Not exactly the "Passover" I was thinking of, but good enough to bring up the memory. In case you are unaware of the Passover I'm referring to...

Since I was first introduced to it, and probably because the first 1,000,000 times I listened to this album, it has been closely connected with art, specifically silkscreening. Since then, this album has served to put me in a rather interesting creative state. As it moves from track to track, I sink deeper into a kind of artistic blur of ideas and inspiration. I print to it, I sketch to it...something about it is absolutely perfect for creating art. 
Anyway, I decided to illustrate a bit of the effect of "Passover".

I kind of like it. In fact, the feathered lines/dripping look created with a thin pen was first done successfully while listening to this album. 
Ah, music. 



Day Two Hundred Eighty One

Mm. Another long work day. It's been great-this solitude. 

mo-sey v. Slang To move slowly; to shuffle along.

I thought about how beautiful it is outside, and will continue to be (fingers crossed) as the fall descends into winter. Lovely! Anyway, "mosey" brought to mind long, slow walks through the city with my camera. 

Also, I must find a pair of these pants so I can stop drawing them. 



Day Two Hundred Eighty

Ah, bliss. 
I could feel things starting to come along a bit today...
The print studio got cleaned from the last fit of 1a.m. to 11a.m. printing/breakfast burrito eating/coffee drinking. It felt so great to discard the reject prints that littered the floor and tables. I don't like acting as if small things always have some deep, symbolic meaning, but I kind of dug the fresh start. 
So, continuing to write words...

whis-per v. To speak in a very low tone; to tell in secret. n. A low rustling sound; the act of whispering.

Absolute new favorite freakin' page in this dictionary. Ever. I want to shake the hand of the illustrator that was assigned "whisker". 
Moving on...

Whispering hasn't always led to the best of things. In fact, it almost always hasn't. I liked the idea of illustrating a "whisper" as sort of a toxic event. Almost like a thick cloud of smoke.