More Ink Ideas

When I go home for Christmas, I wanna get my arm worked on, working towards a half-sleeve.  This is what I have there now.  Kinda hard to see, but it’s a raven on a crescent moon, under a willowy tree.  One artist started the tat, and worked on it twice.  I decided two chances was enough, cuz he couldn’t quite get it how I liked it.  A guy I used to date who tattoos practically begged me to let him “fix it.”  He added all the color and swirly clouds and tree roots and stuff, but there wasn’t much he could do to bring the bird out anymore.

tatme

 

Anyway, I had a visit from the insomnia monster last night.  SO much stuff going on in my mind– sorrow over the recent school shooting, the song “Thomas,” by A Perfect Circle (my love of Maynard should be well documented by now,) and ideas for tattoos…  I was sad but anxious and excited.  My stomach was upset, which is not uncommon if I get too anxious… so at about two in the morning, I ended up sitting on my living room floor, hubby asleep on the couch behind me, listening to A Perfect Circle and drawing.  I don’t get to draw much anymore.  I have a LOT of activities I’m interested in- writing, drawing, volleyball- and I have a two year old.  Some things are bound to get neglected, and it seems like my drawing is one of them (so is housework 😀 )

So, without further…pontification… this is what I came up with last night/this morning.  I’d like the whole half-sleeve to be a raven motif.

IMG_2851.clipSorry for the poor picture quality, but if I can get in touch with my artist, give him this idea, and then let him freehand the rest, it’ll look badass!

And now, for your musical enrichment and listening enjoyment, “Thomas”:

 

 

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The Art Project: The “Other Half”

The male phase of “The Art Project…”  This was the first attempt, and I am pretty pleased with it.  I messed up the left hand but I am hoping to still be able to use this one.  I still having gotten a final product for the female with which both I and my friend who commissioned this project are happy.

© alienrequeen

© alienrequeen

 

 

Work In Progress- Pen and Pencil Sketch

Medium: Mixed Media PaperGraphite Pencil HB, “Sharpie” Fine Point Pen

work in progress- pen and pencil ©alienredqueen

source image

The sketch is turning out pretty good, considering I don’t do architecture usually…  But the sketch pales in comparison to the beauty of all this green…   

The Art Project…It’s Pissing Me Off

I’m an admitted perfectionist.  Who knows how much of it is just that- perfectionism– or how much can be attributed to my OCD.  My best friend said I’m my own worst critic.  (Probably true of most artists…)

And my best friend is who commissioned me for this project.  She bought all my art supplies for said project.  I want it to be right.  I want it to be perfect…especially since she plans on hanging it in her house, where I’ll have to look at it.  

What she wants is two separate drawings of a man and a woman reaching for one another with longing.  She plans to put them on two sides of a wall.  I suck at drawing men anyway, and I’m out of practice in general because my drawing has taken a backseat to my writing and family, so I started with the woman.  I have drawn up four similar yet different sketches (one I abandoned outright due to proportion problems I discovered after it was already outlined in pen) .  I pretty much mostly hate them all.  She likes them, of course, and especially like ones in particular ( one of the ones I didn’t care for.)

So I went back to the one she liked best and I worked on it some more.  For one thing, the head was too big, out of proportion.  Now the head fits better but the damn hair is all wrong, and the pencil is too heavy to fix it without making a mess…

I’ll probably do a few more just until I am appeased…and no doubt, she’ll still want the one she wants now.  Damn, I don’t know which one of us is more stubborn.

Attempt 1- I was not happy with this one at first but now it seems like one of the best of the 4

Attempt 2- her favorite; as you can see, the head is too large in proportion to the torso

Attempt 3- again, the head is too large, but I had already penned it by the time i realized

Attempt 4- her ass is huge, but overall it’s not too bad I guess

Attempt 2.1- rework of the 2nd drawing… Meh

Sorry the quality of the pix aren’t great, but you get the idea… Endless frustration.

Any constructive opinions are welcomed…

The Sleeping Flame (verse)

felt pen stippling © alienredqueen

The Sleeping Flame      5/28/12

You came to me in my dreams last night.

You were just as beautiful as I remember.

I went to your arms with desire in my heart

and doubt in my mind.

But you were diminished somehow,

and your words held no sway.

I was bound by promise to another.

You all come to me in my dreams

To waken dormant parts of me,

sleeping memories,

To tease me with false currents of flame,

and muddy the waters of my heart.

Peach

I stand in the doorway, unnoticed, watching her while she draws.  Her head is bent low over her paper, the tips of her straw-colored hair almost touching the flat writing surface of the little school desk that her Nana rescued from a yard sale for five dollars.  Despite the slightness of her frame, the expression of extreme concentration on her unlined brow makes her look curiously studious as she hunches over her drawing, rendering each line painstakingly, and then attacking it with her giant gum eraser when she see something she doesn’t like.

I am overwhelmed with a species of muted sorrow.  She is growing so fast .  It seems like only last week she was  lining her stuffed animals against the wall to play “school,” teaching them the alphabet and scolding them in her nonsensical toddler’s vocabulary.   Only last week.  But maybe time is different now.  Four years have passed.  And I’ve spent every moment of them, every moment I can, watching her.

I try to speak to her, but she never answers.  Maybe I should have listened more when she was little.  Now I grieve for those moments, working at my laptop at night, when she would wobble over and try to insert herself onto my lap, dividing my attention from my work.  It seemed so important at the time…

I feel a tear slip down my cheek and I laugh softly at the irony.  “I love you so much, ” I say to her, for probably the thousandth time these past few years.  I have to make sure she knows.  I wasn’t ready to go.  My heart would have broken in half, had there been any life left there, at the thought of not being there to watch her grow, to tell her how special she was to me, and let her know everyday how much I loved her.  So I stayed for a while longer.

I drift soundlessly to her side and peer over her shoulder.  She has a colored pencil clutched tightly in her little hand -it’s Peach- as she surveys her art with all of a seven year old’s critical eye.  The three figures on the page stand in a line, linked together by their stick fingers.  Two large and one small one in the middle.  They stand in front of a white house with purple shutters and a lumpy brown dog frolics in the very green grass behind.  A huge yellow sun with long eyelashes and pink cheeks smiles down on them.

After another moment, she puts the Peach pencil down and picks up a red one the color of bricks.  I watch silently as she pencils a wobbly heart next to the figure in the blue triangle dress.  Then she begins to carefully print.  She prints the word “mommy”, and my eyes once again fill with phantom tears.  I can go home now.