Moving out of Vancouver is just like leaving our snug little house to go into a stormy day.

Life = soooo many decisions

I haven't written anything in a very long time- I don't know why.

Currently I am feeling the pressure of decision making - frustrated that so many choices are seemingly non stop and what consume each day. choices choices choices- endless choices.

I have always chosen to conduct myself based on instinct rather than logic. of course logic is necessary,. but I usually try to go with how I feel,. Even when logic tells me different- or societies logic - or pressure from surroundings - I attempt to only give merit to what is yelling at me from the pit of my stomach.

WE supposedly only get one chance- i think otherwise- but consciously I only remember this round; so I guess I kind of believe it. And it is a dark and scary place - THis World - because none of us really have any idea why we're here, or why we do what we do; or make the decisions we make. We are just here, together, lost and lonely, scared and curious.

Connection with others is so important - yet truth for yourself out plays everything else. And if it doesn't - it should. It has to. To be honest with yourself in all effort for feeling good in the moment is what matters in my opinion. Saying, "I want to know what gets me off- I have to- despite any or all expectations". I know this about myself; perpetually attempting to be self- aware and honest and exposed for the unexpected to have it's way with me. Taking me on a trip i will forever remember, journeying me to see me.

I don't know what drives me; expect I do know my sincere interest in humanity- despite the obvious flaws we share - we will always need each-other, and should put sincere effort in attempting to understand each-other; because when that can be done... and a tear can fall by a simple lyric to a song,. we share the feelings which hurt us, and we share the infinite wonder which both dazzles and destroys us.

Wilde Dimensions

I recently got hired as an intern for Wilde Dimensions in Toronto; I am learning 3D Studio Max. 1st project: a Uni-Penguin : ) (he's not nearly complete- but a good start)

BLACK SWAN posters/art

I really like these posters for the movie... makes me want to do more graphic work. I also really like that I painted an 8 foot tall BLack Swan for Shaw Cable, back in September, right before the movie was announced...

Watch the Commercial here...

Toronto Star Cover Contest

I entered this drawing into The Toronto Star Cover Contest. If I win, it'll be printed on the front page on X-mas eve and I'll get $2500 - here's hoping!

(i withdraw and wonder where what how who- oh and why- why bother me about what to do- when i never know -nor never will)

: The Unicorn Deer Story :

Meet my Unicorn Fawn. This little dude has now become a symbol of hope and happiness for myself and many others. Read his remarkable story, which is hard to believe, but 100% true.

I painted this Unicorn Fawn for my friend named Fawn, because I was painting a Unicorn inspired by each friend of mine for my second solo art show titled SLAW.

I named it Ip, because Audrey Hepburn had a pet fawn, named Ip, who used to follow her around in Hollywood.

I painted this Unicorn Fawn in February of 2008, and featured it with my series of Unicorn animals in my Solo Art exhibit, at Charlie's Gallery, on February 25th.

View Blog TO's review of the SLAW show, which includes this picture!

Months after the show, on a beautiful summer day, Friday June 6th 2008, I went for a walk with Charlie and my roommates, and decided to bring my little 5 by 5 inch painting of the Unicorn Fawn with us.

On our way Charlie found a basket in an alleyway, so we put the Uni-Fawn painting in it. As the day past, as we visited shops and galleries I introduced my pet Uni-Fawn to people I met, and explained that I was on my way to the art store to buy sculpting supplies so I could sculpt it.

We all had lunch on a sunny patio on Queen street, then parted ways. I decided to walk through Trinity Bellwoods park, feeling happy that I brought the painting out that day, ... I then saw a bunch of kids hovered around a bush laughing at something... I asked what they were looking at and they said it was a baby bird with only one wing...

I squatted down to take a look, and saw a little bird hopping around with a pink, featherless wing folded neatly on her chest, while the other wing was flapping franticly sending her off the ground but only for a moment in a desperate hop.

I squealed, put my stuff down, and attempted to capture the frightened little bird. After a couple tries I got her in my grasp. Huddled in my breast, she breathed heavily and looked up at me.... with a better look , I realized , the little bird was actually... a baby Robin!

I gasped, and a tear came to my eye, I always thought I could talk to Robin's when I was a little girl, and couldn't believe I had found one so helpless, but alive, in downtown Toronto.

I rushed to my friend John's house, who lived near by, a place i had lived in for three years... I was having a hard time carrying all my stuff while carefully cradling the little robin.

I yelled up at John's window, hoping he would be home, surprisingly he was, even though it was a perfect day and he usually dwelled in Kensington during such days.

He poked his head out his window, 'Hi Love! What's up?' ,

'I found a one-winged baby Robin!' I exclaimed through tears.

He gasped, 'what? really?' and rushed down to me.

Once in the yard, laughing with a smile, he witnessed the little creature held to my breast while I awkwardly balanced art supplies, my purse, and a basket with the Uni-Fawn in it.

'O wow, ' he said. 'This is amazing'.

John took my things from me, and walked with me to my new house. We got a laundry hamper and he helped me make a little nest for the quivering bird.

I inspected the little bird and realized she had tiny feathers attempting to grow on her left side, but they weren't growing any more than a couple millimetres. She wasn't injured or anything, and didn't look sick, as she healthily hopped around chirping and flapping.

So I called a Vet and asked them about it. They informed me that she probably wasn't sick at all, just had a bird defect which happens to birds sometimes, when their feathers simply wont grow on one side of their body.

The veterinarian went on to say that it happens a lot in nature, you just never see it, because by the time the baby bird has been pushed out of the nest, only to find it cant fly, a cat or racoon gets to it right away and kills it. He said that I must have found her right after she had been pushed out of the nest, and that she may grow up with the defect, but never being able to fly, she would probably go insane in captivity.

I was dumbfounded by this news. Couldn't believe this magical find of mine. I decided to keep her and take care of her, advised to feed her cherries and bits of dog food.

The next few days were amazing. She was up at 6am chirp chirping to be fed. I would drop tiny bits cherries in her wide open yellow mouth, smiling at how much she ate, and how healthy she seemed. She was beautiful.

A couple days went by and I would rush home a few times a day to feed her. Everything was well with the Robin, she was eating and hopping around my room when I let her. Until that Wednesday morning, ....

Wednesday, June 11th 2008, I woke up at 9am, surprised that the Robin hadn't chirped at me earlier... I sensed something was wrong. I peeked into the laundry bag and gasped when I saw she had tipped over in her sleep, and died. She would sleep standing with her head nestled in her back, and was still in her sleep position , quiet and asleep for good.

I couldn't believe it. I decided she must have died because of her sadness. Her spirit needing to fly, so she was taken by Mother Nature, out of mercy.

I , crying, gathered her together , went out into my lush backyard in 9am sunshine, and made a little leaf coffin for her. I buried her, praying to Nature and thanking it for taking her.

After I buried her, I was so moved by it all, inspired and sad, so I wrote a poem, and drew this picture...

I believed it was because I took the Uni-Fawn out that Friday, that I had found her. So I decided to make hundreds of tiny prints of my Uni-Fawn, to give to people, writing 'Believe in Magic' on the back of them.

Over the next couple days I proceeded to give them to everyone I saw when I was out at parties, art shows etc. I would exclaim as I gave out the prints to people, that all I wanted was for the Unicorn Fawn to be real, laughing about how cool it would be to have a Unicorn Fawn at our party.

That Thursday night I was out all night, bright and happy while I gave out the Uni-Fawn prints. Wearing an entirely green outfit, with emerald heels, and short hair, I road my little red bike home, in the blazing sun, on Friday morning, Friday 13th 2008.

While riding down Dundas, I stopped and went into a little vintage store I had never been in before. I greeted a man in the store, and he complimented my outfit. As I went to leave I offered him one of my prints and said, 'Would you like a Unicorn'?

He took it from me, unrolled it, and gasped.

'Is this that Deer they found in Italy!?' he asked.

'What Deer?' I replied.

'O, well, two days ago, on Wednesday morning, they found a Deer in Italy growing a Unicorn horn, and it's all over the news, because people believe it to be a real Unicorn!'

I was stunned. Wednesday morning was when the baby Robin died, I thought. The man quietly took me to his computer and googled UNICORN DEER ITALY. In only a second images of the Deer they had found flooded the computer screen. Images that looked exactly like the Uni-Fawn I had painted 6 months earlier, and had been parading around town for exactly one week.

A tear came to my eye. I told him the story about the baby Robin and about the painting and how I had taken it out one week ago, wishing for the Uni-Fawn to be real to every person I met.

He heard my story , quietly nodding with excitement. Then when I finished, there was a pause as we gazed at the images on the screen , holding the print up next to them.

And then he spoke,

'That's the most amazing story I've ever heard, and it's extra weird because my middle name is actually Robin!'

The messenger of this news, was named Robin!

I couln't believe it.

I left his store and rushed home, running into friends on the way, told them and then kept going. When I got home I instantly called my Mom, crying and so excited, I told her everything.

Now to finish this tale, it's truly remarkable what my Mother said when I had finished telling her about that truly magical week.

She told me that her and my Father had booked their anniversary trip earlier that week, and had decided to go to Italy. Only a couple weeks later my parents went to Italy with my Unicorn Fawn prints in hand, and gave one to everyone they met, attempting to tell the story in Italian. And they even visited the reservation where the real one-year-old Unicorn Deer lives, met the man who discovered the Uni-Deer, gave him a print, and told him the unbelievable story.

Now my Uni-Fawn prints circulate in Italy, Toronto, and Vancouver... some of them read 'Believe in Magic' others say 'What you will, will be'... and I still get random emails from people I've never met telling me how they heard this story from my parents while they were travelling in Italy.

And that's my story about a little Robin and a little Unicorn Fawn, a beautiful true story I will cherish always :)

GOOGLE; UNICORN DEER ITALY ; and you'll find all the information about the Real Unicorn, I like to believe my painting, my wishing, and my little one winged Robin manifested... .


See how much they look alike!




My Unicorn Fawn, painted in February 2008| The Real Unicorn Deer, found in June 2008

AHHH!!

THis little dude is perfect!

Turns out I messaged the woman who made him, and even though she only has one, she is willing to sell him for a reasonable price to me, based on seeing my website and my obsession with Unicorns, she's knows he'd have a good home : )

I found a Unicorn drawn by Andy Warhol today : )

Recent Drawings

Women Are Delicate 2010

Mixed Media

Betty Draper 2010

Ink & Graphite on Paper

BLACK SWAN for "Together Is AMazing" TV Commercial

I recently painted a large Black Swan on a 4 foot by 8 foot tall letter S for SHAW Cable... They included the Swan and myself in their recent Ad Campaign.

WATCH IT ON THE LINK ABOVE. ^^

HAIR

In trade of hair advice and styling I altered these images for my friend Jacob. He'll be hanging them in his swank new apartment...

Play Bunny

Part of a large drawing I'm working on.

Unicorns are REAL

could this be true?? I hope so... read the article and watch the vid

http://smr.newswire.ca/en/ontario-science-centre/rumoured-unicorn-sighting-reported-in-don-valley

Rumoured Unicorn Sighting Reported In Don Valley

making art feels like panning for gold;.

you get a million rocks before u find a nugget;.

today was weird,. yammering about myself and why i make art to strangers with cameras;'';;; thought i'd love it, didn;t really,. i dont really know any answers to any of these questions- i just know that i dont care for much else or care to talk about much else ;i am a self-interested sad artist, who spins the anger into pretty pictures;'.

I found THis in T.O.->BOUGHT it

i tend to find Unicorns;.

Ah, The Unicorn.,
I found this tapestry in an antique shop, the owner's name was Bart, and I was so excited that he gave it to me for $5... 

A Unicorn Fact::
Unicorns actually live in parallel universes and guide those out for the greater good.. THey live in the same realm as Guardian Angels; but where Angels assist individuals in their individual life goals, Unicorns assist individuals on a mission to influence great change in the world.

"We are peacefuL"- while they shake their fists'.;

Crumbling beneath you, this world is.
Bumbling like a drunken fool ,.
pan handling for food.

The masses feed off Hysteria
and hyper extend themselves into Her glare.

An age of helplessness, as if it's never not been here.
Armoured zombies in the streets ,.
without any shade of faith
they scream!

As they hand over their change
for a Starbucks Latte,
gripping it tightly as they throw hot opinions in your face
(in a crowd only allowed to feel comfort by being in a crowd) They SHake!

I hear sirens as I sit in my warm quiet living room,
writing without a clue how i feel..
just found a pen in my hand just now,
as i sit here grieving...

ALmost paralyzed by what I've been reading...

THe World's news flooding in through my window,

crashing across the floor
My feet dangle in the sewage,
cold and hurting.

THere is no quiet, never can be because of the distant drumming.
An angry crowd, out to be noticed
by fighting.

When it's clear, Peace is no where near.
A concept which lives in a fantasy. A foggy notion people chant loudly,
"WE ARE PEACEFUL! HOW BOUT YOU?"
I hear repeated on the news...

But you are NOT peaceful if you yell in crowds, and SHAKE YOUR FISTS!
You are fighting War with War, and that is why PEACE CANNOT EXIST!

I think the only hope, would be, if we,
stayed in our homes, unify,
and grieve.

Morn for The World the way you Morn a Dead Relative
be quiet - be kind - be sad -
and cry.

It all grows dark, heavy and thick
Smart people choose to keep walking in it..
only to be hit and hit and hit
in the face
with Stupidity's spit.

I'd like it to stop. I'd like to resist.
I'd like to quietly pray for the day when
Peace may have a chance to exist.

Until then, I'll be quiet and wish for it quietly
Because, I believe, that is what

Peace truly is.

-
Robyn Waffle
June 27th 2010

New Muse: BOTTICELLI

I went to Chapters today to find a beautiful picture book on Renaissance painting.. Funny cuz the first one I spotted in the Art section just read BOTTICELLI in white capitals along the spine. I grabbed it, flipped through, and gasped at how crisp and large the paintings were represented... i then noticed a stain on the hard cover....

I took the book to the front desk and asked how much it was, $89, I was told. 'But there's a stain right here, can I please have a discount?' ... of course, Mike said (a man wearing a name tag)... I can give it to you for 50% off, but it's final sale. PERFECT. $44 for the most beautiful book iv'e ever seen.

Anyways I rushed home, curled on my couch, and just started reading... this is what i found in the first few pages:

Cennini sets out guidelines for artistic training, developing what might be described as a somewhat simplistic description of individual style when he makes recommendations to apprentices on how to learn drawing from the example of skilled masters:

"Having now practiced drawing for a while as I have taught you above, that is, on a little panels, take pains and pleasure in constantly copying the best things which can be done by the hand of great masters. And if you are in a place where many good masters have been, so much better for you. But I give you this advice: take care to select the best one every time, and the one who has the greatest reputation. And, as you go on from day to day, it will be against nature if you do not get some grasp of his style and of his spirit. For if you undertake  to copy after one master today and another tomorrow, you will not acquire the style of wither one or the other, and you will inevitably, through enthusiasm, become capricious, because each style will be distracting your mind. You will try to work in this man's way today, and in the other's tomorrow, and so you will get neither of them right. If you follow the course of one man through constant practice, your intelligence would have to be crude indeed for you to not get some nourishment from it. Then you will find, if nature has granted you any imagination at all, that you will eventually acquire a style individual to yourself, and it cannot help being good; because your hand and your mind, being always accustomed to gather flowers, would ill know how to pluck thorns."

(something i wrote today, on a page in Adbusters)

I DON'T WANT TO REMIND MYSELF AND OTHERS OF THE AWEFUL UNTHINKABLE UGLINESS THAT RIDES OUR WORLD THESE DAYS... I WANT TO REMIND MYSELF AND OTHERS OF A TIME SO DISTANT AND BEAUTIFUL THAT IT FEELS LIKE A DREAM; A PASTEL DREAM ABOUT ROYALTY AND MYTHOLOGY - WHEN SPIRITUALITY WAS A WAY OF LIFE - AND ANIMALS WERE GODS.

Fascinated by Renaissance;;

Primavera (c. 1482) By: Sandro Botticelli

A 15' by 6' foot canvas print of this painting lives in our house right now... found it in an antique shop yesterday.. i sleep next to a life sized Goddess of Love and Goddess of Spring. It's incredible.















It has completely inspired me. I've decided to study Renaissance work...
I have always been interested, but I think I'd like to become an expert...

collag.ist

So. I've become obsessed with collaging..
tearing , puzzle piecing, creating in depth sketches with photos, drawings and paint... i'm strangely inspired by it all.. and imagine turning these intricate collages into large paintings.. .
Right now I am working on one inspired by ALexander McQueen, his tragic death, and his brilliant clothing. I will finish a few of them, then get them scanned professionally to post on here ...



THis is not mine, by a man named Romare Bearden -
The Calabash 1970
read all about collaging::

INSPIRATION

Marvelled by these jelly fish prints, and this moving tribute video: ALexander McQueen: A Tribute VIdeo

dream house

I had a dream about a house that looked like this last night,.



It was a crazy vivid dream , in colour, that my parents moved into this amazing dream house. THis is what it looked like...

a broken feather becomes a rock

I have been wearing this necklace for about three years.

I had it custom made for me out of glass to represent the rybon feather I sign my paintings with. I dropped it recently and it broke. So sad as it is my good luck charm, and favourite thing to hold when I'm feeling nervous.

Luckily I had two of them made for me, and I gave one of them to my Mom. She has sent me the other one, and I now wear it in the place of the original... of course it looks and feels different, and so i don't love it nearly as much :/

Bart Batchelor

,;'';,.;';.

(packing to a friend on the radio. . .
(moving yet again, . . . .. . . ))
(probably the 12 thousandth time since 21 .. .
(each one marking a morph to my character . . ))
(a changed perspective, while i examine existence . . .
(while i analyze each true pleasure held within IT. . . .. . )
(i suppose I am :: (

(an Experience Scientist)) . . . ; )

My Website

I have been working hard on my website... www.robynwaffle.com
I still feel like I have a long way to go, but it's getting there...

Fluevog Ad Design

I have recently entered an ad contest for John Fluevog Shoes.
I actually used to work for this brilliant design for about 3 years, and was excited to see that he's inviting artists to design his advertising for different shoes! I discovered one of the winners in Juxtapoz magazine, and figured it would be amazing if I got picked, because all the types of fashion and art magazines my illustration would appear in. I really hope I get chosen for the top four by John and his team, and then it's up to people I know to vote for me to be the winner... fingers crossed!

Have a look at my design on the Fluevog website:
http://www.fluevog.com/code/fc_gallery.php?view=311

Photos whiLe I work

Yesterday my friend Tristan Casey came by to capture me while I worked on my paintings. I was a little nervous, being that I find it hard to paint around other people... but it was seamless and amazing... it was like he wasn't even there, even though we casually chatted about very interesting things. I have never had such pretty photos of me in my element.... so so happy about it : )

See the photos of me at blog.tristancasey.com/2010/04/robyn.html, and check out tristancasey.com, he is truly a brilliant photographer.

painting what i know

I've decided to begin painting what I know....

I've always painted what i like, beautiful images that take me to other places.... but have realized that I would like to be a fine artist.... even before commercial art, fashion illustration, etc. I'd like my art to be taken seriously , stand the test of time.

So I'm going to paint what I know, by drawing out my memories and stories onto canvas... tell more about my life. Make portraits about what I've experienced, but as i make them, think about what I hope for.

So far, this portrait of my family and this self portrait, I'm working on, are showing me a side of my talent i haven't seen before, and so.....

i feeL inspired.

Record machine and Self-portraits

SO... it's been a good couple weeks.... i got myself a record player from the 60s, so i can listen to some warm tunes while i work... so excited to collect records.... it's be something i've always wanted to do.

Also, I have started my first self -portrait... a purple rendition of myself... I'm stoked to see it through.

Dear OLympics,

Funny, I never thought about The Olympics much until it became all the rage, news, hype, as 'they' arrived in the city I am currently living in.

Not only was my perspective especially unique , because I worked in the downtown hub for the people of the world to use as their playground/place to get fucked up, but because of such perspective - I realized a lot (first hand) about how messed up our world really is.

For two weeks straight - 3 fuLL weekends - I worked Thursday , Fri, Sat, Sunday in the heart of the party, at Subeez Cafe, on the corner of Homer and Smithe. A huge castle-like bar in downtown Vancouver, that can seat probably 200 people.

I opened the restaurant each day at 9am. And observed people busting in at 9am ,day in and day out, demanding double Caesars they chased with coffee, and wearing the same clothes they'd been in the day before.

I know the Olympics is a big deal for Canada and Vancouver, because the world is noticing us, giving Vancouver a reason to party, etc ... but for me, None of it felt Right.

The amount of money flooding in through Subeez' doors - spent all on alcohol , in the daytime, day after day- in parallel to the money flooding into 'The Olympic' ceremonies, Canada Apparel , stupid souvenirs etc, I found incredibly lavish, exuberant and seriously disturbing.

THis Money$ could be helping people!!! Instead the wealthy of the world are competing against each other, flapping about their 'colours' and 'signs' - to prove WHat?? That we are better at sport than you? We can out party you?? We can chug a pitcher of beer quicker than you?? We can host a better OLympics than you??

A poor seat at the opening ceremonies went for around $800 - you received a cardboard drum, a weird paper cloak, and some other crap.... I would find these drums scattered around the bar in the morning - people throwing them out , garbage, garbage.

Did anyone ever think of making the Olympics a minimalist event? Were it was only about the sport, the coming together, and putting all that money towards a good cause??? Banning together like that to help the world!?? Rather than get shit faced, while celebrating athletic excellence, which , to me, is completely hypocritical anyways!!

My blood boils as I write this. I don't know much about much, but from where I was standing - in the middle of ALL of it - Everything felt wrong and off balance... As I witnessed people from around the world gorging on their own egos, and on so called 'National Pride', with booze and cheap gimmicks.

We should have a flag for The World - and be coming together like that to help each other out! Not compete against each other and litter The Earth with puke - beer cans- and cardboard drums!!

Yes Canada landed 'On top' of the Olympics , taking the most gold ever won, beating The Americans over and over, etc. etc,. but I'm curious to see how Sweet Healthy Vancouver handles this Hangover, and I'm curious to see how The World can survive much more of this idiotic behaviour.

Sincerely,

Robyn Waffle,
aka: disturbed by what I just witnessed.

homesickness

It's sunny as hell out, spring is near... I'm feeling crazy homesick today - missing my peeps big time. It definitely feels like the novelty of 'being away' is wearing off... Now that I'm over all the shit I wanted to get over, am mended , and happy again. I really miss the people/stuff I didn't want to move on from. I want to be back in it, chillin in my East.

sprinkly face

happy/sad

I've realized it is quite hard to create in the way I'm used to creating....

Having spent the past few years feeling quite down, unhappy, lost,..
I've filled my time with paintings reflecting these emotions....
Full of feeling, dreaming, harbouring deep undertones of despair...
"Sad but beautifuL", someone once said.
I fell into my paintings...
I let 'rybon' wash over me,. I let 'Her' uplift me into a better place,..
In hard times, my art was my cure.

Now I am in Vancouver,
a place where I don't know many people,
but a place where I feel calm and at peace.
There's a beautiful little stupid kitten chasing her tale on my floor, and a beautiful intelligent man I live with, who cherishes me,.. both of them bring me joy and laughter everyday... they fill me with a secure happiness I haven't felt in a long time.

But.... I find it incredibly hard to paint in the way I'm used to paining.
So....... I think I have to create in light of how I'm feeling - lighthearted, happy, funny, etc.

I am changing course. ... It'll be hard to do... but painting these huge heartfelt images, just doesn't suit my mood.

I can feel it gettin there....

something is happening... at least I hope it is.
I am seriously lacking inspiration at the moment, but perhaps am on the brink of something huge, at least i hope i am.

i will say it again... I want to be good. I want to mean something...
I'm obsessed with good images, but they need to mean more than 'cooL' to look at.

I am yearning for the day I get there... i'll get there , and then i'll yearn for something else.

In one of those moods: the spellbound kind

I woke up this morning to BLasting sunlight and the Kitten asleep on my neck.
Spent time, quiet, with Bart, in bed.
We mused about the night before, spending time with his friends at Karaoke ...

We then arose, got some coffee, and grabbed the basketball, for a game in the park on our street.
The sun felt warmer than I've felt in months, assuring us that Spring is almost here.

Sweet breath. A sigh.
We walk slowly... enjoying the air and the bright day,.
Funny how yesterday I felt so flat... angry... sad etc. Then today, utterly Spellbound by this little life I get to lead...
Feeling so much love, being in Love for the first time in years, ... Living in a dream.

I painted my anger out yesterday... threw Black pain on a White surface.
Splashed the ink all over a large canvas, then carved 'What's the point?' in it, over and over again.
WHATS THE POINT > was my mood yesterday . . .
and then today, I sigh in relief , while sitting in hand with Love, in a sunny park, while looking at SNowy mountain peeks, ... the air washing those angry words from my mind.... the beautifuL serene scene reminding me that THIS is the Point.

Me here, doing nothing, while doing something, then typing it aLL out right now, painting it out yesterday,,, may seem pointless in a fleeting moment, but ever lasting and important when the sun comes out, and you Breathe it all in ,.
as It aLL is,. the essence of existing, ..
with no explanation.

And I did...

I said i should paint it out of me....
... and then I did.

:>

in one of those moods: the indifferent kind

Im freezing inside, but was overheating outside.
Im in a mood, i tend to get into.... dont know how many other people get like this.... but its the kind that sucks.
Indifferent. Uncaring. Not happy. But not sad either. Just flat as fuck, and kind of angry.
Like 'What is the point to all this?'
When I'm in a mood like this, I suppose all i'm good for is painting.... perhaps I should try and paint it out of me.

The Vanity

ANd so, the convos about Art, what it is and why I do it , have been on the tongue of my confidant and I this week...

The vanity, the self-obsession, but also the need to express in order to survive. Its interesting because people always ask me if these women I paint are me... I answer that they must be, weren't intended to be, but I'm painting MY insides, so clearly my women will resemble me.

Sometimes, no doubt I intend them to be me, considering I'm painting about something that happened or is happening to me. I suppose these characters are versions of ideaL beauty,, seen by me... but I also suppose, based on what I've been told, that I am a version of 'ideaL beauty' as well. Something i've taken a long time to grasp, and still have trouble understanding....

Considering in my first couple decades I was awkward, acne covered and in public school with the the last name Waffle.... I had a hard time, and definitely wasn't considered beautifuL until the later years when I started wearing makeup. I still walk around and have no idea that I am 'beautiful' in the way people exclaim I am on the regular basis././ It's weird. I don't actually hear them. I don't even like the attention really.

But! Art is also about attention, and I believe I'm in it for a different kind of attention. The good kind, based on accomplishment and thinking. I most definitely know I want to be taken seriously, and often if your pretty , people dont take you seriously. Especially in a predominately Male industry.

It's interesting, to me,.. because I also firmly believe I am sincerely holding back. Have never really let myself express myself the way I feel I should be. But I think my guts will only get stronger as I get older.... more confident.... and perhaps less pretty ;)

who knows... just some thought.s

EMiLy IsLand

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The Kitten & Crows

This kitten purrs in my lap. Asleep on her back ,feet in the air.
She's been a hellion this morning… tearing around like a mad woman.
I like her better like this, quiet and cuddly. Warm and sweet.
I guess all wild creatures need to calm down at times. and sleep.

Im in my living room. My studio living room. I have my recent paintings all around me. Some big, some medium, some small. Colourful as heLL. So colourful they kind of make me sick. The most intense one, looks like my brain's exploded all over it. It's definitely the exact colours of my brain… maybe i should call it, 'my brain'. These paintings make me miss the canvases I first did, the ones i did in black and white.

There is no music on, silence… until i hear a crew of crows out my window. There are so many crows in Vancouver. i like it.
And so, I want to be good,… like the kind of good that breaks through shit… i want to set rules for myself… write a manifesto…. design a movement. Paint things people have never seen…. commentate on the age we live in… how strange it is…. how we watch each other.,… how we know things need to change, even more drastically than before…

I guess it's hard to be happy go lucky - la dee dA - right now… i suppose some people do it… i can sometimes…. but realistically , im quite serious. I like real deep shit: the kind that resinates & shakes the brain. I want to be able to make stuff that does that ~ not only shakes my brain, but other peoples. People of all ages.

The Kitten has moved…
she watches my fingers type,
she bats at them with her paw.

The Crows have moved on,
I now hear Sea Gulls.