art/life/drawing/babies/fiction
Spent most of my weekend in a life drawing workshop, drawing and drawing, concentrating on turning a figure into flesh, about how to use colours to create flesh, how to represent the curves and edges of a person without using lines, just shades.
Even after class finished I was still thinking, pulling out a green teapot and wondering how to draw it just from shades of pencil, and sat in my garden, amongst fallen flower petals, drawing. Didn't want to leave my world of art and life and fiction. Woke up puzzled that I had dreamt of Martin, a boy from primary school who died in a car accident 8 years ago. Why him? Then I remembered it would have been his birthday this weekend, Martin who played the viola and shared violin lessons with me, Martin who was on my Year 5 school camp and voted the messiest kid ever. Martin who was a middle child and had the lovely surprising personality that comes with the kid in the middle.
Watched Love My Way and puzzled over parents who outlive their children, parents who partner up and keep expanding their family. Was still puzzling over this on Monday, lovely 8 hour public holiday MONDAY, as I snoozed on my pile of purple cushions, white pillow and yoga mat, inside my yellow bed sheet and hills hoist cubby house. Spoke to my sister asking how soon I could draw her sons, wanting to get them in these earily years, so I have portraits to compare them to, like the portratis of Lou in LOVE MY WAY. Little did I know that she was only hours away from announcing that she was pregnant and her youngest son is estatic. "I won't be the baby, I'll be the middle child!". Fergus who wants to be a musician and a maker of petrol free cars, also wants to be a big brother. Ned, who still mourns for the blessed days of being an only child, doesn't want to talk about it.
Even after class finished I was still thinking, pulling out a green teapot and wondering how to draw it just from shades of pencil, and sat in my garden, amongst fallen flower petals, drawing. Didn't want to leave my world of art and life and fiction. Woke up puzzled that I had dreamt of Martin, a boy from primary school who died in a car accident 8 years ago. Why him? Then I remembered it would have been his birthday this weekend, Martin who played the viola and shared violin lessons with me, Martin who was on my Year 5 school camp and voted the messiest kid ever. Martin who was a middle child and had the lovely surprising personality that comes with the kid in the middle.
Watched Love My Way and puzzled over parents who outlive their children, parents who partner up and keep expanding their family. Was still puzzling over this on Monday, lovely 8 hour public holiday MONDAY, as I snoozed on my pile of purple cushions, white pillow and yoga mat, inside my yellow bed sheet and hills hoist cubby house. Spoke to my sister asking how soon I could draw her sons, wanting to get them in these earily years, so I have portraits to compare them to, like the portratis of Lou in LOVE MY WAY. Little did I know that she was only hours away from announcing that she was pregnant and her youngest son is estatic. "I won't be the baby, I'll be the middle child!". Fergus who wants to be a musician and a maker of petrol free cars, also wants to be a big brother. Ned, who still mourns for the blessed days of being an only child, doesn't want to talk about it.
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