chantico: (Indecisive)
Watercolors are a slippery beast. They look so pretty, so simple, so elegantly clean. You do not see the fangs until it's feasting time. Luckily, with practice and courage, they can be leashed. I . . . am not so much with the leashing, yet. More like circling the corral, rope in my hands, while watercolors growl at me from the opposite side of the sawdust floor. They've kicked my as for two days, but the moon has changed it's face and dammit, I figured out a few tricks to wrangle the fuckers into compliance. Mostly.

The problem with them is that watercolors are both a fickle medium *and* a permanent one. It is really hard to undo a stroke once you've laid it down, and estimating exactly how the paint will move is just as difficult. I'm sure masters have no problem estimating color density and how a stroke will dry, but I the definitive dilettante in this arena. Complicating things is the nature of the work: I'm trying to complete additional illustrations for an author who came to us with a set already completed by another artist. My handicap is matching their style-- and like I said, since watercolor is a stroke-by-stroke record, there's no slamming some stuff down on paper and then realizing the person you're doppleganging always used horizontal strokes and you used vertical. Plus I have no idea what colors she used, in what brands (even more so than in other paints, watercolor shades seem to vary a lot between companies; a cadmium red in Windsor and Newton might be pretty damn different than a cadmium red in a competitor-- close enough that they are both still cadmium red, but far enough apart to make my whole palette just a liittttllle cooler, warmer, etc than my predecessor.) AND the images I'm working off of are really bad scans that muck with the colors anyway.

I am legit having a blast. No sarcasm. This is fun.

****

No progress on Light. I am stymied by my lack of tools and waiting for other people to have time/inclination to lend me access to their tools. Frustrated. Working on parasols instead, or maybe writing. Maybe. It's my newest habit: 500 words a day in any medium. So journaling counts. Expect to see more updates as I flee my stories.

****

Been bad about making dinner. It's so hard after the gym! Have been good about going to the gym, though. Bonus. Worked out my arms WAY too much last time; they went from sore to "wow, I feel a little nauseous when I bend my elbows".

****

New Music you should listen to: Gang Gang Dance's Saint Dymphna (for all your african/tartar inspired eclectic electronic needs) and "Once I Was An Eagle" by Laura Marling (who must be a being made of glass to have a voice so clear and sharp).
chantico: (Numb)
I have got to stop updating at the end of my work day; by this point the cotton in my head has collected into drifts and for all the conversations and connections I want to have (with any readers, or with the future self that will be reading this one nostalgic day-- hi, self!), there ain't no deep talk happening. I never knew one could feel mental exhaustion, in a very real, physical sense. Always associated it before with that wall you hit where you just don't want to do anything anymore. Alas, no, there is a beyond, and in that realm you will find mist and bellybutton lint and all manner of soft, smothering things to press on the walls of your skull, compacting your eyes, forehead, sinuses.

***

Imbolc party on Sunday. Haven't thrown a party in years. Wondering how I'm going to get the house clean, if I should do a little ritual, what I can use as cushions for the lawn furniture since ours did not survive the cold or my many winters of neglect. Seriously though, the whole back romo is a filthy junk pile and I really, really need to get it picked up if people are going to head to the back yard but I am not sure when I am going to be able to do that. Saturday is Moon's birthday party and I miss her so, yeah, not skipping that. Jason's sick and I can't rely on him to clean it up anyway. He wants to find a way to pick up the Superbowl this Sunday during the party and I'm all "Uh. You . . . totally okayed this party thing and the date for it. Please don't sabotage." Or I'm saying that internally. Slinking away from any conversations that might be unpleasant right now because he's worn so thin by work.

MARRIAGE. The careful balancing act of "We need to communicate!" and "I'm too crazy not to take this shit personally right now!"

Thhhbbt.

****

Finished The Map's geographical features. placing and naming cities now. Very pleasant and mindless. Painting preparations for Light are coming along-- figured out exactly what region I'm illustrating, did two environmental studies and found a source for one more, picked some grasses to examine, designed the lantern and costume, studied the hard parts of that (though I need to do a texture examination of firelight on wool). Still need to do some studies of the tree, a couple of lantern light, and a *lot* of anatomical work. Then thumbnails at last!

****

Gym visit #4 tonight. Overworked my legs yesterday. 24 hours afterward and they still feel weak-- a bad sign. Abs, hips, shoulders tonight, and maybe the treadmill instead of the arc machine to keep my thighs from dying.

****

Today's music: The Stroke's "Room on Fire" (meh); Dry the River's "Shallow Bed" (solid, enjoyable folk with some great hooks and lyrics); Run DMC's "Tougher than Leather" (I remember the early 90's!); Krewella's "Wet" (party pop dubstep, entertaining, but in smaller doses than a whole album in one go) and a smidge of Joe Cocker.

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chantico

May 2014

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