Glass

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Ball point pen

Just sittin in bed drinking a couple of sips of Glenlivet to fall asleep… Forgot my pain med (which I only take at night) at my girls place so scotch will have to do!

Music: Katatonia – the great cold distance.

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Sunrise and water

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Pencil

So I’m awake, it’s the middle of the night and I wonder allowed at what point does stress become unhealthy?

When you can’t sleep…

Ugh
So drawing is what I do and listen to some music, cranked in a set of head phones and draw weird pictures.

My pencil knew what to do
Like usual it finds its way

She rises out of the ocean like the sun
But you’re supposed to stay away
And be wary of the words that flow
And the strangest things they say
Her hair breaths like the spring
And her lips wet with fresh dew
Her fingers are the branches
And her eyes burn you through
Water alive and rising flow free
Rays spread new day
And set the souls free
But she’s floating
And drifting
And leaving
Me

Sigh
The water
The bright sun
Ghost of the memory
Burned like a brand a scar remember
And across the day
And into the night
Alone the edges
It’s all right
Stranger then never
And again alone
If your heart is full
Where is it home?

The ocean will swallow her again
She just fades and goes
We dream like babies and smile
Like lovers we weep and let go
My fingers stretch out to touch
But like a fantasy can’t hold
The water rises to meet her
And into it she goes
She smiles below the surface
Her hair drifts and sways
Her eyes close
Her head goes back
Into the night
She
Goes.

Music: if these trees could talk

A few more miles

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Pencil, pilot pen

It’s been cursing me from my bedside
The last couple of days
I know I should do more
And yet…
I think about an open road
The freedom to run away
The travel to a distant shore
Sleep.
The grass smells with morning dew
The low mist just lifting
Gravel loose beneath my boot
Shift
The shadows reach the day is waining.
A few more miles are missing
Travel long to rest and song
Time yet in sleep and shifting

Music: sympathy for the devil (if you have to ask…)

Anger, fear, aggression

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Pilot pen

What’s bothering you today?
What’s getting inside your head?
What is it on the ceiling?
When you can’t sleep in your bed?

How do you try and cope?
What are the faces that you see?
Is it a reflection of yourself?
Or is it the images of ‘me?’

Can it cause you to scream?
To cry out in fright?
To do hurt in anger?
To swing punches, to fight?

Do you bury your head to hide?
Can you turn and walk away?
Is there another answer?
Is it something that voices say?

Has the dust just settled?
Is the wound still fresh?
Do you have a thorn?
Buried in your flesh?

Clarity is sometimes hidden
By the clouds of what they say
Go to sleep in peace
Tomorrow’s another day

Music: Coheed and Cambria

Embrace

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Watercolor, pastel

I was asked how big it was… The art, and I realized all similar sizes. I out four sheets together tonight and diluted some black water color grabbed a big wide brush and followed my head.

I wanted to do a figure and two made a nice balanced sense. I’m not sure what the year means… Happiness, sadness, hello, goodbye, why? He looks hard, not angry, just hard, stone to what’s going on being the tough one the man, I imagine he’s crying too, inside.

Music: Listening to songza and not really liking the choices. It’s a play list called Canuck Folk. It’s not folky enough.

Reflection

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Charcoal

Well, I guess negligence is the best way to describe it… Maybe.
I’ve been negligent in my upkeep which considering the name of the blog is rather, obvious. Still I could make excuses and frankly they would all be true but still it’s the simplest thing to do a drawing a day. I mean a good friend of mine said even of you put up a stock figure you still should put something up.

He’s right.

But I haven’t and the gaps between art are (in my own opinion) annoyingly wide.

Strangely… I do care.
I mean some of you have taken the time to ‘follow’ my scribbles and frankly that’s kind of awesome. There are also the folk who pop up from all over the world, places I’ve never been that ‘like’ some of my work so I owe it too you all , too me to be more studious and prolific in my art.

I’ll do my best.

This charcoal…
i like it.
And it was fun.

Music; none tonight. Just the ringing in my ear, the sound of a bus outside and the mumble of the city at night.

Good night.