Welly, welly well, it's been a while. That's okay though, because that means I have a job and can't sit around on my computer all day.
It also means I've been shamefully remiss about painting, though things are under way and I'm hoping to complete them before the sun becomes a red giant and swallows the earth. (Although at that point, who cares?) I haven't even really been doing any watercolors, having been feeling rather uninspired lately. Here, however, are some pieces I put on my deviantART account but not here.
Up first is a group shot of me and most of my alter-egos. One more came out of the woodwork after this picture was completed, but you'll get to meet her soon. From left to right is an exterminator, a skullhead (a sugar skullhead, to be precise), me, a skullhoodie, and a surgeon.
Next is Beast Boy and his new necklace, because even Beast Boys need to feel pretty sometimes. I really enjoy painting teeth like that.
Both were done with the usual mix of watercolors, watercolor pencils, gouache, ink and colored pencil.
I think I may have mentioned exterminators in some earlier post, but I don't remember if I got very much into them. So I decided it was time. The idea for exterminators was born one day in my friend's apartment, reading a book he had on graffiti in New York City. I was kind of in an artistic rut at the time--this was well over a year ago--and I came across a picture of an artist spraypainting a wall and wearing a ventilator. I don't remember what she was painting but I remember the mask, and started drawing women and girls with ventilators. (The best inspiration comes from the most random things.) They became known as the exterminators and they're weird and complex and creepy. They also tend to be weirdly sexual, wearing ventilators and not much else. In truth, I don't really know what they're about, just that they are linked to beauty and disease, and seem to thrive in post-apocalyptic settings, where I guess a ventilator might be a good idea, depending on the cataclysm, although sometimes they breathe out noxious fumes. The figures that I've come to call surgeons are relatively new, and seem to have evolved from the exterminators. I don't like them. Or I should say, I don't like her, because as of now there is only one surgeon, the one you see here. She's pretty horrible--I mean, I like how she came out (although her scalpel could have more of a highlight), but I don't like what she represents in me. I have this idea that under her mask she's got a Glasgow grin happening, maybe crudely stitched back together. But that might be cheesy, I don't know. I left any sutures off of her this time because while I think she symbolizes self-destruction, I don't know if she is self-destructive herself, or just encourages others to be. The surgeon is probably the most uncomfortable of the figures I've come up with, and the one I sound the most DID talking about.
The exterminator here is actually left over from the ladybug phase (they haven't returned this winter), and she's a little exterminator, so not a sexy one. I actually think this picture is quite pleasant, especially compared to the surgeon. Both are watercolor, ink and gouache on paper, and both are about 6 X 6 inches. I don't have a lot with exterminators, but I like them, and I'd like to have more of them.
So, yeah, this was kind of a crazy post. Sorry. But it seems I tend to create little characters for the various facets of my personality because that's how I can understand them. Making them physically visual helps to confront them, in a way, and allows me a way of communicating with others. Who knows? Maybe I'll find some more in there sometime.