I love my brain for many reasons. It has brilliant ideas. It sees wonder everywhere. It’s good at learning stuff. It allows me to experience everything both in fine, nuanced detail, and on a grand, dramatic scale.
It’s also a bit of an arsehole, because it tends not to let me get on with stuff.
[Image descriptuon: Digital cartoon image. In the top right hand corner, a disembodied pink brain with a smiley face, eyes and little cartoon arms chatters away. In the bottom left hand corner, Mama Pineapple, a reddish-haired white femme-presenting person wearing a purple long-sleeved top, looks upward in despair, whilst shaking both fists. The background is grey, and the brain, and Mama P, are surrounded by lots of words and phrases denoting complete and total distraction from the task at hand (whatever that is. Probably something very important and difficult).]
Just a pretty picture, really. As usual, parts of it frustrate me – the octopus’s head is far too disproportionately small, for one thing. But it’s still quite pretty.
One of my earlier doodles, inspired by how much my children have at various times loved Octonauts, Finding Nemo, A Turtle’s Tale, and various other under-the-sea adventures.
Sometimes it’s simply nice to draw things that make my two little beasts smile.
[Image description: A brightly coloured underwater scene, drawn in fineliner pen. To the left of the image is a large yellow speckled octopus, floating above some deep red coral. Small fish of various colours swim through the middle of the image, close to a large, wavy-finned pink fish blowing bubbles. A large yellow-and-dark-blue fish hide within the seaweed to the right of the picture. The sea bed is covered in pale sand strewn with rocks, pebbles, a shell and a starfish, and a hermit crab marches along.]
Doodling is a stim, and here is a doodle about stimming. A stim-themed doodle-stim/stim-doodle.
How very meta.
[Image: A portrait-orientation doodle, in coloured pen, featuring the word “stim” in ALL CAPS repeated five times, in varying fonts, colours and styles. The words are decorated with, and surrounded by, many line-drawn shapes and patterns.]
Another one from my little Moleskine book. Yet more horror/spooky connections, plus a nod to the literary.
I refer to a lot of these fineliner pen drawings as “doodles” because other than having a vague idea on my head about what I’m going to draw, I don’t really plan them, or sketch anything out beforehand. And I usually begin by drawing one area of the picture in detail, and “completing” this, before I move to the next. This started with a cauldron, and progressed from there.
I much prefer working in detail over a period of time to dashing things off quickly, but as per a couple of recent digital paintings and some of the more cartoon-based work, I’m having a go at doing things quickly as a way of honing certain skills. Painting and drawing quickly is still somewhat outside of my comfort zone.
The faulty foreshortenening/positioning of left arm of the witch holding the frog annoys me intensely. But never mind.
[Main image description: A full-colour fineliner pen drawing of three green-skinned witches, around a large, ornate and rustic cauldron placed on a bonfire. One witch stirs a potion in the cauldron; another holds a spell book and is about to drop a frog into the mixture. The witch in the middle holds her hands up as if casting a spell. Numerous creatures are running away from the scene, and a cat hides behind the spell-book witch. A broomstick is just in view to the left of the image, and in the background are hills, woodland, bats and a full moon.
Second and third images depict the same picture in earlier stages of development – firstly the cauldron, then with the addition of two of the witches.]
I stopped for 20 minutes painted this on the iPad on the way home from work last Thursday. It’s a good exercise in discipline to try and do art work within a tight timeframe — I prefer obsessing over detail, but I think it’s helpful to hone my skills of observation and composition, in particular, by dashing some stuff off very quickly. I also feel somewhat as if I’m laying myself bare by posting something so “imperfect”, but that doing so helps me agonise less over others’ perceptions of me.
Detail is beautiful, but for my own self-care I’m occasionally trying to let it go, as a way of addressing some aspects of my anxiety.
I still have so much to learn.
[Image description: A full colour, landscape orientation digital painting of a wooded area of an urban park in springtime. The sky is blue, and there is a red-brick building in the background, and a path to the right of the picture. The painting style is rudimentary and impressionistic. The composition is not ideal, with rather too much grass in the foreground.]