my memories keep me warm until I remember they're just memories I wrote that in the summer first I was defiant then I was tired then I was reminiscent but mostly I was sad sometimes i wonder what the sheer durability of emotion says about humanity and whether it says anything at all and i wonder whether it's a reflection of openness or brokenness or the inability to fit into social narratives it's hard to imagine that i used to stay up late for the sake of it that i'd stay up late to talk to scour the internet to find articles i'd read not once or twice but maybe eight dozen trintuplion times at night i'll want explanations revelations soul-retching heart-baring confessions when i revisit late-night memories, there's an buttery hazy glow that envelops them which i'd get lost in during the summertime June 2016
cool air fading sunsets
silhouettes of schoolchildren
high high high up
don’t know what it is about
that evokes deep nostalgia
for plaid skirts that
knit lumpgreen sweaters
for Halloween nights and
for reflective lakes reflective
tears reflective friendships
moving on we moved
on we’d moved on we
to my left are babbling
indifferent silly raging
lanyards, red and blue, gabbing
away as my head slow throbs from
to my right are circles of
renovation two years
too late of graduation young
running away to run
right back a quiet joy handpicked–
selected, curated, sieved through
plucked and chosen–it’s summer
i zigzag in circles
into the warm
arms of memory
Reminder to self: we’re all a part of a giant shared collective experience mired in good and evil and love and fear and desire and emptiness and peace and calamity. (We are all made of stardust.)
To see more works from May, you can scroll down in the box below
Oh, but I didn’t mean it that literally.
Here are the first few (read: 50) scenes from a digital stop motion I’ve been working on. I’m taking my first design class this year–first ever! right, I know, it’s about that time. Each of the classes are 3 hours long, twice a week, so that totals up to 6 hours a week. Which, admittedly, I was apprehensive about. Turns out my apprehension was all for naught, because after every class, I’m wishing I had more time to work on our pieces.
Sitting around working on our art also warmly harkens back to the good ol’ days of mandatory art class. I’d sit with some friends and paint nonsensical artworks I’d never turn in. Honestly, I hated school, but if there was one chunk of time I enjoyed every other day, it was art class.
And stop motions, albeit tedious, are fun to make. Although some people illustrated their animations, I opted for stop-motion. There’s always been something about stop-motion that’s reeled me in…as a 10 year old, I’d make flip books of dancing stick figures, stop-motion style.
2.28.18 | Daily Art
The year’s winding down to an end. 2018 peeks from behind the heavy mahogany curtain: is it her turn to shine yet?
For others, it seems like every year was a salad’s mix of highlights and shit-shows. But for me, 2017 might have been one of the best. Instead of slaving away to social expectations, I did my own thing, carved out time for myself, landed a paid writing internship, visited six cities–including a beachy vacation with family, roadtrip with le beau—started seeing le beau, hit the one year blog mark, did well in my last batch of classes (all A’s so far, yay) etc. Life hath been good; I art grateful.
My favorite New Year’s WP posts that I’ve stumbled upon so far have been imbued in wisdom: what I learned this past year, what I grew to appreciate. Yet the year went by so quickly that I haven’t had the time to contemplate lessons learned or gratitude boxes checked. If anything, it seemed to be a fairly calm year, one in which the 2017 flower grew as expected, bloomed with surprising quickness, fluttered with patches of vibrancy. That, as opposed to running headlong into concrete blocks, dealing with abnormally dreary weather, or facing a lack of floral nutrients. In other words, the year somehow sidestepped the usual tricky roadblocks. For that, I am appreciative– 2014 and 2015 were growth-spurt years, awkward and painful and hasty, whereas 2016 was pinkishly aimless.
2017 was a good year, a mellow year. As of now, 2018’s just rounded about vague goals, semi-forming and morphing–I’m not really one for resolutions. I’ll soon flesh said goals out, jot them down on paper, work towards them. The only “creative” goal I have so far is to make more art, several pieces a week. I’m considering starting up my daily drawing project again (which didn’t get terribly far in the start of the year). I’m looking for some way to consistently commit myself to fine arts, even though I’m not required to. Otherwise, in looking ahead, I’ve been told that this pocket of Youth will be a time of exploration, loneliness, uncertainty, excitement. Ah. We’ll see what it has in store.
In looking back at the year, I’d be remiss not to note how grateful I am for you, reader. Thank you for taking the time to click, like, read or comment on any posts, for being a part of 2017. If you’re reading this (as Drake scribbled on his album cover), thank you, and happy New Years. 🙂
Spent last Nov/December holed up into digital art, the one thing I derived a sense of stability from. With protests going on outside my room–constantly, it seemed–and wishy-washy people fluttering around and tests looming ahead, art was an escape.
So I drew. A lot. Mostly on the computer using Wacom tablets–the library had them. They had the Cintiq, a massive screen you can draw on, and smaller Wacom bamboo tablets. I’d spend hours a day drawing on Photoshop, learning from artists on Youtube, hunting out inspiration on DeviantArt.
Blink. These are screenshots from an animation I worked on in February. I didn’t realize, until attempting animation, how much of it I took for granted–how tedious the process really was, how every 1/20 or 1/80 of a second had to be drawn by-hand. And only then could you piece together the slightest movement. (Though there are animation programs now, which speeds up the process)
Ruby. I used this piece to practice digital shading. Creating depth/values on Photoshop is a quicker process than it is with oils and acrylics. With paint, you have to mix and dilute until you have the right shade and consistency; on Photoshop, it offers the entire color spectrum with all its variations. I was initially was frustrated with this piece until I threw in highlights–on the nose, lips and cheek–which added a lot more depth to the piece, and subsequent realism.
When it comes to shading, I’ll usually start out with a base color, add in shadows, then tentative highlights. I’ll go on to darken the shadows, do a bit of blending, and then add a final layer of the brightest (sometimes completely white) highlights. These are the little white dabs on her upper lip and nose bridge.
This was my first digital sketch, done hurriedly over a one hour lunch break.
A few days later, I decided to expand on the eye, to practice faces and portraits (my favorite! as you can probably tell), so I sketched her, who I never named–my first digital portrait.