I admit, the bit with the papers and the woobling and the cut out doodle is kinda fun to do…
I suspect most artists have found themselves here at some point. The hell of it is, throwing different media at it works just often enough that you are often seduced into trying, even when you should probably just give it up as a bad job.
If you are not lucky, however, you find yourself staring at something that has turned to a kind of gritty textureless mud, and a little voice in the back of your head says “You haven’t tried egg tempera yet! Or dried macaroni…”
I also finally came up with a self-portrait I rather like. So, since I seem to be cutting things out and sticking them to other things today…
Yes, I’m twelve.
Kevin claims that yes, this is me, but this is a man who, having lived in New York for some years, would find it difficult to drive if you taped his middle finger down, so, take it with a grain of salt. (I mean, he could DO it, but he might have to put the hazards on, just in case…)
Prints of the art supply one are available, and the original is for sale, which probably proves that I’m really not “journaling” here.