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.

This light was from my memere's house. It's really old and I love it.

Found this frame at Le Petit Magasin in Casselman. Best. Store. In the world. Seriously. Drew the octopus like five years ago. The flower illustration is from a book I stole from the basement of a house my friends used to live in. Southwoood. There's a page from a book by BP Nichols. It fell out of the back of it, and it was a library book. Sorry Ottawa Library. The top is a drawing I did of this greek mythological creature or something. I can't remember what it's from to be honest. The photo is Paul Poissel. The dreamcatcher came from the dollar store. And that blue thing is really weird. It's a description of/ad for Wonderbread but it was actually the packaging for some weird sewing stuff, from my memere. So awesome.

I found the bottom frame at Le Petit Magasin; the wood bit with the fly I painted and gluegunned on. The clock came from Value Village and it's one of my favourite things in the world.

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.

Top left was a birthday present from my friend Hannah. It reminds me of buying hairspray. Top right is by ms Jodi Tellier. Same with bottom right. Middle, the bicycle, is by the lovely Zoe Ikeda. Photo in the mirror is my memere, looking mad glamourous. That word looks incorrectly spelled. Canadians are weird.

These are my guitars and things. All keyboards from Value Village or Le Petit Masin. Gourd maracca from somebody's garbage after the Great Glebe Garage Sale [aka best day of the year]. Mini acoustic from some dude on Somerset who may or may not have been homeless. He wanted five bucks for it. I gave him that five bucks. Tambourine from a yard sale. Paisley tambourine from dollar store, altered by me. Ukelele from Steve's.

My boyfriend made this ship into an amp. My speakers and piano plug into it. It is actually the best thing I own. There's a fox skull I found back at home. The mini ship is from Value Village. Metronome is from my dad. Scary glow-in-the-dark religious thing from my friend Karine. Scary wooden dog cutout thing called Foofur. Ripped of a wall of the old abandoned high school [now demolished] in Maxville. Foofur is actually haunted.

I don't know where this little container came from. The teeth fell out of the fox's head.

RIP lightbulb collection. You had to come down eventually.

Coloured pencil on wood garbage. Doodlin at work.

Siren. Don't really like this, but my teacher was pissed I made our model into this on the second week we had her, so I feel like I have to defend this one. But I'd finished my portrait the first week, so I wanted to fuck around with a new one a bit.

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.

Look how small my fucking hair is. I'm growing up. Eugh.

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.

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.

No. 20

I drew this today at work. This is my roommate, she rules so hard.

No. 19

OH HI MARK.

This is dedication.

This is the tail end of a trip to the Heart and Crap on Preston with an old friend.

This is also the tail end of four pints of Keiths. I think.

I drew this at work today.

I think this looks better in rill laife?

I was hearing Neutral Milk while I drew this.

Why aren't my fries ready yet. There should be a special fries-cooking oven dedicated to speed-cooking fries.

Made specially for me. That is what I wish for in this world.

this is just me looking filthy. there ya go.

NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT.

No. 18

I'm dying.

I'm supposed to be drawing that Three Graces assignment but I can't think of anything I've wanted to do less in my life. Giant piece of paper that I have to hover over my bed to draw on? Pencil crayons that won't erase? Architecture? ALL MY FAVOURITE THINGS. Eugh.

I stayed home from work today because I feel like a mesh sack of dog shit. I hate missing out on work, especially when it's at Five Cents, but I guess this is giving me time to do my stupid homework.

I have my drawing critique tomorrow. I hate presenting. I hate explaining where I'm shitty and where I'm okay at drawing. I don't frigging know, that is your job to tell me. Anyway, I'm cranky because my ruler isn't long enough to draw this staircase.

I just want to eat salt and vinegar chips and popsicles and watch Top Model all night.

Instead, here's a hideous painting I did in like 2006. I normally hate going back through my folders and finding old stuff I've done, but this one was too funny and I had to post it. I ended up leaving this outside my house on the street.

Oh, I got tattooed yesterday too. It looks rad; Joel did it. I'll post pictures later when I don't have pop-eye arms. Anyways, goodbye forever, wish that my critique goes alright.

No. 18

Hai.

I had my painting critique yesterday morning. It went way better than I'd expected. I forgot to do two of the projects, but I brought in a shitload of other paintings I'd done on my own time. The teacher wasn't pissed about the two projects not having been done. She said a lot of nice things, really specific things that I was surprised to hear from her. She liked the ones I thought she was going to hate, like the naked conehead. She also seemed to read into a lot of the paintings I did on my own time, either way more than I thought she would, or way more than I realized I'd put into them. It was really weird. I'm always under the impression that no one's really getting what I'm talking about in most of my paintings, but I guess sometimes a few of the messages come across.

Which is weird in itself, because I don't ever really start a painting with the intention of it being about one specific thing, or having it say something. I kind of just do and then I figure out what I meant later. I don't know if that's right, or normal. But whatever, it gets done, and I guess that's the important part.

I feel really introspective and lame right now, but I'm getting a cold again and I just had some Advil Cold and Sinus or something and I feel all weird. I feel like my sentences aren't making sense but we're blasting music here and also there's a very deep conversation happening behind me between the guy getting tattooed and one of my bosses. I think it's leaking into this post, sorry.

I'm getting tattooed again on Tuesday. Really stoked. Joel's doing it. Big ol gramophone on my arm. It's going to kind of bleed into my half sleeve that Julian did and the Epilogue bird on my wrist.

Then I'm getting a big ol birdy guy on my other arm that Julian's gonna do. I'm excited about that one a lot, because it really means a lot to me and I've been wanting to get something done with this theme for a while. Really hope my mum and dad like it.

Okay it's too rainy and grey and mopey outside and I sound like a big luggish turd [dunno].

OH MAN. Sorry. Someone just pocket dialed the shop and I answered and I just heard a really cute and grossly sweet goodbye between a couple. Aw.

Okay, I'm going to watch Tommy Wiseau be awesome tonight. All be jealous.

This wasn't really art-related, sorry. I'm just procrastinating.

Gonna go draw Kathy Roussel a bird.

Hope everyone's well. x

No. 17

I'm just posting to inform any and everyone that I am now dead inside.

I love my colour theory teacher. I love that class, I really do.

But holy shit. This is what I spent the last two hours doing:

I actually want to die now. It wasn't mentally taxing or anything, but jesus christ I hate using little scissors and glue sticks. What kind of sick torture is this? Who assigns something like this! Sadistic lunatic! We had to do a self-portrait collage in complementary colours and their graduated mixtures. Sure hope flesh tone is a graduated mixture of orange and blue. Christ almighty.

I'm supposed to be drawing an updated version of the three graces right now. I didn't like our model. I made two of the graces mannequins, and the third a shopgirl dressing them. I don't even care how lame it is. I think I'll just make the mannequins have awesome fabulous hair to spice it up. Not that I'm actually capable of drawing hair. Where's Jodi when you need her.

In any case, my whole body is dead from sitting here hunched over pieces of magazine paper for so long, so I'm going to wake up at 5 and do the stupid drawing and then hand it in.

Painting critique is on Friday. I'm totally done all my paintings too.

Yea, no.

Anyway, I drew these lovely ladies at work today:

Top right is Virginia Woolf. Top left is that girl there from Little Scream. Just heard her last night, I like her voice.

Bottom left is Liz McGrath with a weirdly stretched out head. And bottom right is some girl in a Hurley ad or something. She ended up looking more like Jessica Biel than I'd meant her to.

I sleep now.

Also, all of you need to watch The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra. My dad and I bought it for 2$ one time. It was the best investment ever. Fuck that movie is great. Way too long, but the first bit. Oh man.