I am leaving you, blogspot. You take too painfully long to upload photos. And I'm pretty sure everyone is on tumblr instead. That's where I'm going. Goodbye now.
www.kayliecs.tumblr.com
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
No. 25
I've gotta paint soon. I feel sad about not having painted in a while.
I have to go to work at Second Cup in a minute. Guaranteed I find a crackhead in the bathroom at least twice tonight. My roommate and I are apartment hunting. It's hell. I'm going to be living off dustbunnies during the school year. Why are two bedroom apartments so goddamned expensive in Ottawa. Stupid. Errr. I played at Bluesfest on Sunday with Philly Moves. I didn't die under the collapsed stage. Pretty sure we saw Joe Satriani/Voldemort at Babylon after though. I'm positive it was him.
That's all that's new with me right now. I have to go to work now. I feel like a grouchy asshole, probably because I am one. Come on, things. Get awesome.
Friday, July 8, 2011
No. 24
No. 23
I'm not dead.
Here's some stuff.
I'm building my website finally. I'm so fucking busy. No day off in sight.
I miss school. I wish I was in Circa Survive. I wish Julie Christmas would record my album.
I wish I had a tattoo machine already.
I wish I had time to paint. I wish I had a pizza right here and that pizza was free. I wish my parents didn't live an hour away. They rule.
I haven't had time to paint anything in ages, it makes me anxious and grumbly.
Monday, May 16, 2011
No. 22
I have three hours before I have to go to work. I could shower and clean up my room, or I could update this thing and paint some more.
I'm going with option number two. Ha, number two. Like poo.
Okay.
It's really rainy and gross and pathetic and kind of November outside right now, so I thought I'd post some photos of my cozy workspace. And by workspace, I mean bedroom. I'm inviting you all into my bedroom. Such a hussy.
All of these tapes either came from my dad, or the side of the road. That speaker is fake wood panelled. The airplane came from a corner store in the dirty south. On McCarthy, I believe. There used to be an old dude called Aziz who ran that place, he was wonderful.
Doodlerin.
Scary manhands.
HATE HATE HATE charcoal.
Acrylic and charcoal. Big weird cut up piece of wood. This really does look better in real life, I swear. I used like a hundred seventy three different colours in it, I swear.
Stupid still life for school. Graphite. This isn't crooked in real life, I just have wobbly camera-holding hands.
I like that the reference photo I used to draw the lamb was some religious-y Jesus photo.
Hands and stuff. Practicing.
This one really does look better in real life, save her being disproportionate, and also that skull not making sense. No reference photos for skulls=stupid idea. It says 'Charmicarmicarmicat Shines to Death'. Lot of Isis at work.
Joel Conroy did this. It's not finished yet, and this is kind of a crap photo, sorry. It's a wicked gramophone though. One day I'll get a decent photo of it.
Julian Garner did this one. Also not finished.
Off to Centretown hell. Come get a coffee if you are reading this, live around downtown ottawa, and it's not past 9pm. If it's past nine and you come in, I'm only going to make you a tea, asshole.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
No. 21
I went on a mission today.
I showed up early at work by accident. I thought I worked at 2, but I worked at 3, so I decided to go buy girly things that I can't afford and don't need and shouldn't be buying. I wanted to buy bras, lipstick, and shoes.
I couldn't find shoes because god forbid there should be a store with remotely nice shoes in tall person size [and I am not picky with shoes either, in that I wear pretty much exclusively six dollar Giant Tiger skimpy tennis shoes].
I did find bras and lipstick, and then I was so overcome with guilt at having bought such ridiculous things that I immediately went to Wallacks and emptied out fifty bones on oil paints.
And so it begins.
I'm actually really afraid of this oil paint era I'm about to embark upon. I hear that shit dries at the speed grass grows. Slower even. I am an impatient bastard. And I paint quickly. Luckily I got the water-soluble kind, which apparently dries somewhat faster?, but I also got some weird medium that I may or may not actually need. I bought it anyway just to be safe. I don't know how this shit works, but I used my pepere's oil paints once when I was like 11, and I painted on a piece of printer paper. There was a big old pthalo green wet spot on that paper [and everything beneath it] for a solid two weeks, from what I remember. I've been afraid of oil paints ever since.
Now that I'm no longer 11 or retarded [that's actually up for debate] I will be using said paints on canvases or gessoed wood panels. BUT STILL. I'm scurrred.
But good things come to those who are horrified, right?
Anyway. I am super tired and my whole sketelon wants to punch my head in the face but I'll likely start with the big bad oils tomorrow night apres travaille. I hope I draw something decent tomorrow at work. I feel so hit or miss all the time.
I wish I was more consistent and knew what I was doing. Goddamn you, distrustful right hand.
I really should have been a lefty.
I showed up early at work by accident. I thought I worked at 2, but I worked at 3, so I decided to go buy girly things that I can't afford and don't need and shouldn't be buying. I wanted to buy bras, lipstick, and shoes.
I couldn't find shoes because god forbid there should be a store with remotely nice shoes in tall person size [and I am not picky with shoes either, in that I wear pretty much exclusively six dollar Giant Tiger skimpy tennis shoes].
I did find bras and lipstick, and then I was so overcome with guilt at having bought such ridiculous things that I immediately went to Wallacks and emptied out fifty bones on oil paints.
And so it begins.
I'm actually really afraid of this oil paint era I'm about to embark upon. I hear that shit dries at the speed grass grows. Slower even. I am an impatient bastard. And I paint quickly. Luckily I got the water-soluble kind, which apparently dries somewhat faster?, but I also got some weird medium that I may or may not actually need. I bought it anyway just to be safe. I don't know how this shit works, but I used my pepere's oil paints once when I was like 11, and I painted on a piece of printer paper. There was a big old pthalo green wet spot on that paper [and everything beneath it] for a solid two weeks, from what I remember. I've been afraid of oil paints ever since.
Now that I'm no longer 11 or retarded [that's actually up for debate] I will be using said paints on canvases or gessoed wood panels. BUT STILL. I'm scurrred.
But good things come to those who are horrified, right?
Anyway. I am super tired and my whole sketelon wants to punch my head in the face but I'll likely start with the big bad oils tomorrow night apres travaille. I hope I draw something decent tomorrow at work. I feel so hit or miss all the time.
I wish I was more consistent and knew what I was doing. Goddamn you, distrustful right hand.
I really should have been a lefty.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
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