New moleskine, one of my first entries will add text tonight. I am watching the Rose Tattoo, with Burt Lancaster and Anna Mangani. I love old movies. Tennessee Williams--crazy women--disillusioned men, oh what fun!!

Wa la!!!! the new year comes and I am somewhat blocked. Got a new moleskine, made a few entries, but I'm a little (a lot ) intimidated by the huge book. What will I do without the portrait prompt, should I continue or try another way? I have limited text in the first journal, should I try for more text and less art in the next? This vacation has been not as nice as last xmas, raging hormones, anxiety, toothache. And so it goes....

The Rapture

Journal entry--no text yet. Getting to the end of this moleskine. I will have to re-bind. Can't wait to start a new one, but what will be my prompt this time? Maybe just artist muscle flexing and experimentation I don't know why, but I just get more satisfaction out of the journal entries. I think it's cause they're just for me:) Big, big smile....

The New

First foray into wood, I struggled with this one. I struggle with a lot of them lately. Don't know why....But I improved her expression, narrowed the face from 5' to 41/2 and made the chin smaller. I was able to stylize her to that look of innocence; her face has softer tones in it.

Class is done--got an A!!

Angular Anguish

Sometimes they work in seconds....Then there are these. Her features are angular and strong: she's lost her femininity. When I logged on today the irony was that I read that the waif-like Brittany Murphy died. She looked so thin in all the pictures I saw of her. The pressure to be a size two must be overwhelming for these poor girls.
Sensuality in women can be found in the curve and the fullness. I sometimes wonder if Hollywood isn't run by gay men who want to masculinize women. I don't like this girl because she is too angular and hard.

Serene Fire

Serene Fire represents my passion to paint. There's a stillness in painting. I think artists like to express a wealth of feeling but have trouble with conventional communication. When you're still, the thought process is in the forefront, outside stimuli recedes, you drop out. Your thoughts rush forward, concentration is lubed, and the process begins. You tell your story.

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This is me

honestly, I have more lines on my forehead, but you got to love the self edit.
I know my eyes, and unfortunately I put them on a lot of my girls/women. What can I tell you? We paint like we write; it's what we know. Try as I may they always look...a little like me, perhaps the former me. It's really not creepy, it's just academic: I go on autopilot when it comes to facial features. I learned to draw a face by looking at my own. Sitting for an artist is impossibly boring, and models are expensive and sometimes creepy.... Most artists resort to the mirror. If you get really good, you get beyond this.
But I'm just not that good--or I really like my eyes, even as I get older.

I have to admit it. I'll say it out loud, sort of. I love this one. She was a mistake, and I kind of tweaked her, here and there. She's basically a mixed media portrait: colored pencil face, collaged my old watercolors, and went over her face with acrylics again. The I collaged in the Paul Simon lyrics: "My mind's distracted and diffused, my thoughts are many miles away. They lie with you while you're asleep and kiss you when you start your day."

I loved this, and then I dropped it. I'm too disgusted to talk about it now. Maybe I'll sand it down and try to fix it.

Okay, I fixed one of my angels, the other will just find a place in my closet with other artwork that is really is artwon't. But she's okay; I like her. Serene, strong and beautiful.
Did a journal page that looks like Carrot Top's sister. Will reluctantly post, just can't get my head around how garish she looks--maybe she's just a sign of the stress I feel. Hey, Munch had his painting of woman with red hair and green eyes and she was really, really scary. He was freaked out about Hitler,and I'm freaked out about finals, work, and the holidays. Hardly seems equitable, but hey, stress is a relative thing. Why is it I can create under incredible stress, but everything else goes on autopilot when I'm stressed? Creation is joyous, I guess. It's a path away from the darkness. Creation is a promise of renewal, a constant, a friend.

Groundhog Day..

No this is not the Madonna or Mary. I am throwing a blanket over my head and not coming out until this awful semester is over. I am officially fed up. Hell, I might not come out until spring.