Creatures living in the corners of my eyes


wp_thumb_ceilingI think they are always there; I think I only see them sometimes. I think there is a combination of circumstances that allow me to perceive them, but I don’t know what the circumstances are or if I can replicate them at will. Which means the creatures are safe from my meddling. I saw this creature on the ceiling of my living room and he was not fleeting. I was doing crunches and every time I raised my torso, there he was. Smiling down at me, floating in his bit of flocked space. When I went back later, he was gone. The ceiling was the same but the creature was no longer visible. My eyes or my brain had changed. Maybe the creature had merely drifted off to a different location. I believe he ambles, he and his pals, living in my flocked ceiling and appearing every now and then when I can tune my perception to the right frequency.

Sketchbook Page - March 2015

Sketchbook Page – March 2015

When I was small, I believed an entire tiny world was accessible via the reflection of my room I could see in the golden metal button in the centre of my ceiling light fixture. The button was convex and I could see my whole bedroom reflected there, including the door and a bit of hallway. Clearly, an entire parallel universe whose doorway was right there, out of reach but not out of sight. I lay on the bed looking up and imagining how very much better life was for the tiny me, on the tiny bed, upside down on the ceiling. Sidebar: that bedroom also had a flocked ceiling with all the shadows, patterns and cave wall paintings found in such– flat but still definitely dimensional. I’m getting rather addicted to these sketchbook character drawings. I’m enjoying illustration again. I think it is the benign influence of Adventure Time. “I am all about that.” Adventure Time feeds me in a wonderful, kooky-but-healthy way.


Me not talking


Since I talk all the time, this is an unusual post. All posts are unusual since I post so seldom. Talking all the time, which includes talking to myself when I am alone or in the grocery store, gives me plenty of opportunity to make sentences.

I like sentences. I like the compact kit of words in various forms that combine to communicate a subtle notion. I’m reading Neil Gaiman/Dave McKean again (Signal To Noise). Words and pictures, words and pictures. I don’t like the phrase “graphic novel” so much, but I do like words and pictures. I need to put the book down so I can get some work done.

It’s time to work on my large commissioned painting for my clients, now downstairs on two 60″x60″ canvases. I have just returned from Umbria and Tuscany so the painting will be different than it would have been had I finished it pre-Italy. Naturally. It will be a picture without words though, and that is a bit of a struggle. Struggle is good. However, I could do without the head cold and the back ache.