Posts Tagged ‘for sale’
Tuesday, September 8th, 2020
Some people have the energy to protest, some of us have to stick with protest art. If you told me at any point prior to 2016 that I’d be worried about literal nazis in 2020, I would have thought you were crazy. Just goes to show.
This piece uses several different brush pens and some bloodily patriotic watercolor to make its point.
Nazis ruin everything.
Above, you can see the spattered red and layered ink on the D in BAD. Below, the art’s in a frame that’s not quite right for it — it would be perfect in a larger frame, or one of the acrylic frameless displays.
Monday, September 7th, 2020
Another piece that’s been in my Work in Progress pile for an embarrassingly long time, I took this city away from reality immediately and never brought it back.
From Mondrian to fungus, the buildings and their washed-out colors spring from a number of sources, including the usual Gherkin-inspired glass edifice.
I couldn’t tell you who or what lives here, perhaps somewhere close to Ulthar or well beyond the cursed plains of Leng. But you could probably tell your own stories about it, if you tried.
Above, you can see the play of dim color on the buildings and in the sky. Below, it’s been framed, like a peek through a looking glass into another world.
Categories: Angels, Cthulhu, and Other Myths, Floating Gallery, Flowers, Trees and Landscapes, Series and Books, Whimsical and Strange
Tags: brush and ink, city, dreamlands, for sale, horizon, watercolor
Wednesday, September 2nd, 2020
This piece is in a category I call “more cowbell.” I took an older Blue Moon painting and put a bird on it. Or three, to be accurate.
It’s a small murder, but it checks out.
There’s a rich texture both on the paper and in the paint here, with the black sky and haloed moon both highlighting and concealing the crows. They’ve got some gorgeous blue and violet in their feathers, especially the two in the shadows, and their eyes contain a tiny glint of iridescent paint.
Doesn’t your life need a little murder?
Above, you can see the crows, shadow on shadow, their purple-blue plumage fading into the textured black night sky. Below, they’re trapped in a frame like a view out a window that doesn’t exist.
Saturday, March 7th, 2020
In the final installment of my Ash Ghost series, we have a single footprint, already being blown away by a wind that doesn’t seem to be as forceful as the dissolution would suggest.
The soft subtle texture feels like charcoal but is actually ink, layered in to get the depth and texture of a pile of powder.
The real question is, how does something with no feet leave footprints?
Above, you can see the texture of paper and ink playing off each other, swirls like ash blowing on the unseen winds. Below, the painting waits in a frame, a moment forever preserved.
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