6.13.18 | Daily Art
6.13.18 | Daily Art
Scrambling for titles–the figure reminded me of a model, and the twins as if they’ve been cut out of construction paper. Unrelated thoughts:
6.12.18 | Daily Art
Unable to decide between the fuzzy border and circle border, I took it to IG story, where I set up a poll. The fuzzy border gives it a messy, organic look; the circle border, as my boyfriend suggested, makes it look like the view from a telescope.
Of the 80 voters on IG, 70% voted for the fuzzy border and 30% voted for the circle border. Which of the two do you prefer?
6.11.18 | Daily Art
Here are daily art pieces from April 2018.
I’m looking ahead; it’s the final stretch. I’m anticipating sunnier days ahead, dreaming of the beach, shutting my eyes, peering over the balcony of somewhere tropical. It won’t be nearly that sunny or beachy, but the thought’s getting me through the weeks.
Missed deadlines. You know the way water suddenly stimulates creativity and forgotten reminders? This was one. I missed the design deadline. And it’s been on my mind.
4.1.18 | Daily Art
Crooning mellow tunes, soul’s skyrocket to fame banking on the nostalgic dust-coated memories of an idyllic high school days. We’re just like that one song, young, dumb and broke, except we’re not broke, just young and dumb.
Khalid’s been playing on repeat, from early AM origami folding to concentrated midday digital doodles to nighttime vibes.Numbers saved lest one day you chalk up the pride to come back and say hi. Tell me where your love lies, love lies.
4.2.18 | Daily Art
If I had a spirit cartoon, it’d probably be Diane Nguyen from Bojack Horseman.
Diane’s this smart and nerdyish character who’s into writing (she’s penning Bojack’s bibliography) and third wave feminism and books. Not one for social gatherings. Freaks out when her husband throws parties and does wild gestures. Hates surprises. Is a “misunderstood intellectual.” On the stubborn side. Quiet.
Granted, I’m not Diane Nguyen–it’s just that, of all my favorite cartoon characters, I identify with her most. I love Stewie, but I can’t identify with Stewie; Louise Belcher is great, but more adorably conniving than I could imagine; Rick Sanchez is a wild, slightly sociopathic genius, but he’s a kind of his own. Ah! Diane it is.
4.5.18 | Daily Art
You learn to curse on the playground. You’re doing cartwheels to synchronize to songs by the Cheetah Girls. Everyone’s got their legs and back straight, pinwheels dancing on rubber nuggets.
Meanwhile, you’re spitting shit so it rolls off your tongue, easy, and when your substitute teacher compares you to the dark-haired girl in Peanuts, you say, talk to the hand. And when your second grade best friend stares at you wide-eyed, incredulous, you laugh.
If every petal was one bad word, another angsty thought. That’s a lot of angsty thoughts.
4.6.18 | Daily Art
Lo and behold, a watercolor watermelon.
4.7.18 | Daily Art
There are no mountains where I live. Nor are there cherry blossoms. But this image, of flowers in bloom, nature’s puff, of tiny yellow homes by the mountainside, struck nuggets of peace in my heart.
The city, in contrast, is so loud. Angry hum of bus engines, people scuttling around, loud. Cars on concrete continually. Whirs and roars and squeals and squeaks. Chorus of ambulance sirens every. half. hour. Sounds I tune out over time. But in the morning, when I tried a solid minute of meditation, all I could hear was the din I’d learned to shut out.
Madness. I’m channeling nature instead, albeit in 2D illustrations.
4.8.18 | Daily Art
Sometimes I’ll feel little spurts of gratitude–this time, it was for the closest people in my life. Ah! What are you grateful for?
4.9.18 | Daily Art
A nebula of nebulous thoughts, decisions, plans–or lack thereof. Of paths less traveled, of roads well-worn.
One day, it’ll seem so obvious–an epiphany, albeit late, will hold the answer to every qualm. The next day, one naysaying opinion in the middle of design will cast long shadows of doubt.
Nebula, nebulous. In looking ahead, I can opt either to diverge, or to trudge upwards. But towards what?
4.10.18 | Daily Art
A visual attestment to the importance of brows. This is a late-night sketch of a random girl, whose face I merged graphite with digital medium. Toyed around with the brows for kicks and giggles. Same image, parallel face;
she looks (subtly) different!
4.11.18 & 4.12.18 | Daily Art
I asked my boyfriend from caption ideas. “Beauty covers beauty,” he suggested. Like: Beauty over beauty. Beauty superimposed upon beauty. Beauty of nature. Beauty of reflections.
4.13 & 4.14
Toying with pastel-colored paints. There’s something so dreamy and slow and beautiful about clouds.
4.15.18 & 4.16.18 | Daily Art
West-coast cliches, like California dreaming, palm trees swaying in the wind. I’ve been fantasizing about the beach, of sprawling under the sun, marmy, sleepy, toasty.
4.17.18 & 4.18.18 | Daily Art
Sunset, and sunrise.
4.19.18 | Daily Art
A mojito, please, and here’s our ID. I had my first mojito at the Venezuelan place downtown, the one with the meat pockets so good I stashed a palmfull in my purse. The lime and mint mojito paired with it perfectly.
4.20.18 | Daily Art
It’s remarkable when somebody understands. 99.9999% of people don’t understand, can’t understand, probably won’t ever understand. And it isn’t through any fault of their own: to understand is a true feat, really, and to expect it from others is a tall damn order. Even when it comes to close friends, or family, you can’t expect another person to know entirely where you’re coming from.
So you can imagine my borderline astonishment when, after confiding in my best friend a personal experience, she empathized with it in a heartbeat. She relayed her own experiences, mirror images of my own, back to me. I’d had my words fall on so many deaf ears in the past, to the point that I felt like a real odd one out. To have had them fall on an understanding one, years later, was absurd and comforting. To others, it’d marked deviance, something unjustifiable. To her, it was utterly normal. I only wished we’d been friends earlier.
4.21.18 | Daily Art
A deep-sea dive into the beauty of watercolors, of mixing and blending. The technique I used here is called wet-on-wet watercolors, where you paint an invisible watery layer, then dot it with pigment. It creates a beautiful watery effect, as with the adorable diving whale above.
4.22.18 | Daily Art
Swoops, dips, presses: calligraphy’s a precarious dance between ink and brush control. Recently, I’ve been toying with watercolor calligraphy, handlettering with paint instead of ink. The past week of Daily Art pieces was spent experimenting with styles, sizes and fonts.
4.23.18| Daily Art
With a stiffer, thinner brush and concentrated watercolors, I’ve been able to produce cleaner and brighter texts:
4.24 & 4.25| Daily Art
It’s had a recent resurgence in popularity over the past year, littering blogs and IG. Inspired by style, curious about the form, I got a calligraphy pen last summer, black tip marker from the local crafts store with the inspirational quote notebooks and books on minute physics.
So I took a stab–metaphorically and literally–at handlettering. The letters turned out a bit uneven. And it was hard to get clean edges, at least on white paper. Part of it had to do with my wobbly hand, but the marker itself also wasn’t terribly ink-y, so it’d lose ink halfway. (I’d also use the marker to sketch cartoon-esque portraits)
4.26 & 4.27 | Daily Art
I tried using watercolor brushes for both the handlettering and designs, but the text ended up looking bubbly instead of sharp, childish instead of sophisticated. This, in part, had to do with the actual brushes I was using–the brush hair wasn’t stiff enough, so it didn’t hold the paint well enough to create the crisp edges I was going for.
4.28 & 4.29 | Daily Art
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
Style, chic, modish. Watercolor painting.
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.)