Fixer stinks like shit. It permeates my space and makes everything smell like a caustic aerosol. I can’t stand it.
It’s required though, especially with charcoal. Still I feel a little bit of my brain dies every time I fix a piece of art.
I really hated this about half way through, I almost tore it up. But it’s a bit of an internal fight to see it through. I have found that dissatisfaction helps me let go a little and the process flows a little more smoothly as a result.
So in the end, once photographed, I kinda like this.
I like that it took about 30 minutes. That the perspective and depth work. That I stopped before I ruined it and that you do get a feel of the room. The few of you who have been here will get that.
I’m standing over the picture… It stinks.
Thank balls that’ll be gone by the morning.
Music: the blood and tinnitus in my ears, it’s quiet tonight.
I needed an evening with my thoughts
There’s a lot bouncing around in my head that needs filing and collating.